


^ - Z3» 

II 3 









>3_ 






>!^ :3E>. ->^ . 

> > i:x> 3 > _ 

■ly-yjy :i» > -> .... 

r:> :> z>:> > > : 



>i> 1 


» "^5 - .^ 


> > ^ 


► ~> ">^ 


yy-M 


* >■ O 


>T>*~^ 


► > 5> 


->'-> ] 


"► > -> 


^ a 


* ■>..> 




► > > 


3> ^ 


k :> .> 


\^ 3 


► ^ :7^ - 


S> ~3 


Ik ;> "> 


^i> - 


>k >~>.^ 


;..-> 


■^ > ^ 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



PRESENTED BY 

UmTED STATES OF AMERICA. 



a> 


J, y> 


» 


Z> 


:s> 


■^J> --> 


:?> 


-~> '^i> 


3> 


Z> .^^- 


10 




> 




> 


3> *5 


> 


--:> -.>3> 












^3>33 
2> ^^2>"- 






y>3 
2>:>z:*> ^ 












> 


>.:> 


:> 


» 


> 






>5 


» > 





*5> ,:> .> z> :» 






j3> ^ ^T>^ i: 
:> ^ :^ 









z> 


3> 


:> 


iz>> 


:2> 


3> 


3> 


3> 


z> 


^ 


:5> 


:> 


II> 


:3> 


i> 


:3» 


3> 


IZ* 


:> - 


3> 


3> 


> 


:>j> 


^ 


"> 


j» 


:> 



3> 



i> ^x3» >;>]? 



^ is> .:> :> 

:> ^T!» Z-^ ^ 

:> >^^ ^ 



:> ^5> 






~3 ^^^ ^ 






^^ 



— ►>:£> 









3 -:g>5 ■> -:^ 



:>3> 7> It 



53 >^ 



>3 3"^ 



«r>-vi^ 






-TZ^^JE* 












^►/^^ 



^3 












yt^^w 



,— ^~^ 



THE DUEL BETWEEN FRANCE AND GEEIANY, 

WITH ITS LESSON TO CIYILIZATION. 



LECTURE 



Hon. CHARLES SUMNER. 



J 



For when kings make war, 



No laSsf betwixt two sovereigns can decide, 
But that of arms, where fortune is the judge, 
Soldiers the lawyers, and the bar the field. . 

^ Dkyden. 




/ 

BOSTON: 

WRIGHT & POTTER, PEINTERS, No. 79 MILK STREET. 
(Corner of Federal Street.) 

1870. 



^THE LIBRARY I 
OF CONOREttj 

IWASHINOTOIII 



t)C2.<? 






LECTURE. 



Mr. President : 

I am to speak of the Duel between France and Prussia, with 
its Lesson to Civilization. In calling the terrible war now 
waging a duel, I might content myself with classical authority, 
duellum being a well-known Latin word for war. The historian 
Livy makes a Roman declare that affairs are to be settled " by 
a pure and pious duel " ; the dramatist Plautus has a charac- 
ter in one of his plays, who obtains great riches " by the duel- 
ling art," meaning the Art of War ; and Horace, the exquisite 
master of language, hails the age of Augustus with the Temple 
of Janus closed and " free from duels," meaning at peace, tor 
then only was that famous^ temple shut. 

Wae under the Law of Nations a Duel. 
But no classical authority is needed for this designation. 
War, as conducted under International Law, between two 
organized nations, is in all respects a duel, according to the just 
signification of this word, differing from that between two indi- 
viduals only in the number of combatants. ^ The variance is of 
proportion merely, each nation being an individual who ap- 
peals to the sword as Arbiter, and in each case the combat is 
subject to rules constituting a code by which the two parties are 
bound. For long years before civilization prevailed, the code 
governing the duel between individuals was as fixed and mi- 
nute as that which governs the larger duel between natioiis, 
and the duel itself was simply a mode of deciding questions be- 
tween individuals. In presenting this comparison I expose 
myself to criticism only from those wlio have not considered 
this interesting subject in the light of history and of reason. 
The parallel is complete. Modern war is the Duel of the Dark 
Ages, magnified, amplified, extended so as to embrace nations ; 
nor is it any less a duel, because the combat is quickened and 
sustained by the energies of self-defence, or because, when a 
champion falls and lies on the ground, he is brutally treated. 
An authentic instance illustrates such a duel ; and I bring be- 
fore you the very pink of chivalry, the Chevalier Bayard, the 



knight without fear and without reproach, who, after combat in 
a chosen field, succeeded by a feint in driving his weapon four 
inches deep into the throat of his adversary, and then, rolling 
with him, gasping and struggling, on the ground, thrust his 
dagger into the nostrils of the fallen victim, exclaiming, " Sur- 
render or you are a dead man," a speech which seemed super- 
fluous, for the second cried out, " He is dead ; you have con- 
quered." Then did Bayard, brightest among the sons of war, 
drag his dead enemy out of the field, crying, " Have I done 
enough ? " Now, because the brave knight saw fit to do these 
things, the combat was not changed in original character. It 
was a duel at the beginning and at the end. Indeed, the bru- 
tality with which it closed was the natural incident of a duel. 
A combat once begun opens the way to violence, and the con- 
queror too often surrenders to the Evil Spirit, as did Bayard, 
when he thrust his dagger into the nostrils of his defeated foe, 
and then dragged his dead body out of the field. 

In likening war between nations to the duel, I follow not 
only reason, but authority also. No better lawyer can be 
named in the long history of the English bar than John Selden, 
whose learning was equalled only by his large intelligence. In 
those conversations, which, under the name of Table-Talk, con- 
tinue still to instruct, the wise counsellor, after saying that the 
Church allowed the duel anciently, dbd that in the public litur- 
gies there were prayers appointed for duellists, keenly inquires, 
" But whether is this lawful ? " And then he answers, " If you 
grant any war lawful, I make no doubt but to convince it." 
Selden regarded the simple duel and the larger war as governed 
by the same rule. Of course the exercise of force in the sup- 
pression of rebellion, or in the maintenance of laws, stands 
on a different principle, being in its nature a constabulary pro- 
ceeding, which cannot be confounded with the duel. But my 
object is not to question the lawfulness of war ; I would simply 
present an image, enabling you to see the existing war in its 
true character. 

ThQ duel in its simplest form is between two individuals. In 
early ages it was known sometimes as the Judicial Combat and 
sometimes as Trial by Battle. Not only points of honor, but 
titles to land, grave questions of law, and even the subtil- 
ties of theology, were referred to this arbitrament,— just as 
now kindred issues between nations are referred to Trial by 
Battle ; and the early rules governing the duel are reproduced 
in the Laws of War, established by nations to govern the great 
Trial by Battle. Ascending from the individual to corpora- 
tions, guilds, villages, towns, counties, provinces, we find that 
for a long period each of these bodies exercised what was called 
" the right of war." The history of France and Germany 
shows how reluctantly this mode of trial yielded to the forms 



of reason and order. France, earlier than Germany, ordained 
" trial by proofs," and eliminated the duel from judicial pro- 
ceedings, this important step being followed by the amalgama- 
tion of discordant provinces in the powerful unity of the Nation, 
so that Brittany and Normandy, Franche-Comtd and Burgundy, 
Provence and Dauphiny, Gascony and Languedoc, became the 
United States of France, or, if you please, France. In Ger- 
many the change was slower ; and here the duel exhibits its 
most curious instances. Not only feudal chiefs, but associa- 
tions of tradesmen and of domestics sent defiance to each other, 
and sometimes to whole cities, on pretences trivial as those 
which have been the occasion of defiance from nation to nation. 
There still remain to us Declarations of War by a lord of Prau- 
enstein against the free city of Frankfort, because a young 
lady of the city refused to dance with his uncle, — by the baker 
and domestics of the Margrave of Baden against Eslingen, 
Reutlingen, and other imperial cities, — by the baker of the 
Count Palatine Louis against the cities of Augsburg, Ulm, and 
Rottweil, — by the shoe-blacks of the University of Leipzig 
against the provost and other members, — and by the cook 
of Eppstein, with his scullions, dairy-maids and dish-washers, 
against Otho, Count of Solms. This prevalence of the duel 
aroused the Emperor Maximilian, who, at the Diet of Worms, 
put forth an ordinance abolishing the right or liberty of Pri- 
vate War, and instituting a Supreme Tribunal for the deter- 
mination of controversies without appeal to the duel, and 
the whole long list of duellists, whether corporate or indi- 
vidual, including nobles, bakers, shoe-blacks, and cooks, were 
brought under its pacific rule. Unhappily the beneficent re- 
form stopped half-way, and here Germany was less fortunate 
than France. The great provinces of Germany were left in the 
enjoyment of a barbarous independence, with the " right " to 
fight each other. The duel continued their established Arbiter, 
until at last, in 1816, by the Act of Union constituting the 
Confederation or United States of Germany, each sovereignty 
gave up the right of war with its confederates, setting an ex- 
ample to the larger nations. The terms of this important stip- 
ulation, marking a stage in German unity, were as follows : 
" The members further bind themselves under no pretext to 
declare war against one another, or to pursue their mutual 
differences by force of arms, but engage to submit them to the* 
Diet." Better words could not be found for the United States 
of Europe in the establishment of that Great Era when the 
duel shall cease to be the recognized Arbiter of Nations. 

With this exposition, which I hope is not too long, it is easy 
to see how completely a war between two nations is a duel, — 
and, yet further, how essential it is to that assured peace which 
civilization requires, that the duel, which is no longer tolerated 



as Arbiter between individuals, between towns, between coun- 
ties, between provinces, should cease to be tolerated as such be- 
tween nations. Take our own country, for instance. In a con- 
troversy between towns, the local law provides a judicial tribu- 
nal ; so also in a controversy between counties. Ascending 
still higher, suppose a controversy between two States of our 
Union ; the National Constitution establishes a judicial tribunal, 
being the Supreme Court of the United States. But at the 
next stage there is a change. Let the controversy arise between 
two nations, and the Supreme Law, which is the Law of Nations, 
establishes, not a judicial tribunal, but the duel, as Arbiter. 
What is true of our country is true of other countries where 
civilization has a foothold, and especially of France and Ger- 
many. The duel, though abolished as Arbiter at home, is con- 
tinued as Arbiter abroad. And since it is recognized by Inter- 
national Law and subjected to a code, it is in all respects an 
Institution. War is an Institution sanctioned by International 
Law, as Slavery, wherever it exists, is an Institution sanctioned 
by Municipal Law. But this institution is nothing but the 
duel of the Dark Ages, prolonged into this generation, and 
showing itself in portentous barbarism. 

Why this Parallel now? 

Therefore am I right, when I call the existing combat between 
France and Germany a duel. I beg you to believe that I do 
this with no idle purpose of illustration or criticism, but be- 
cause I would prepare the way for a proper comprehension of 
the remedy to be applied. How can this terrible controversy 
be adjusted ? I see no practical way, which shall reconcile the 
sensibilities of France with the guaranties due to Prussia, 
short of a radical change in the War System itself. That secu- 
rity for tlie Future, which Prussia may justly exact, can be 
obtained in no way so well as by the disarmament of France, to 
be followed naturally by the disarmament of other nations, and 
the substitution of some peaceful tribunal for the existing Trial 
by Battle. Any dismemberment, or curtailment of territory, 
will be poor and inadequate, for it will leave behind a perpetual 
sting. Something better must be done. 

Suddenness of this Wae. 

Never in history has so great a calamity descended so sud- 
denly upon the Human Family, unless we except the earth- 
quake toppling down cities and submerging a whole coast in a 
single night. But how small all that has ensued from any such 
convulsion, compared with the desolation and destruction already 
produced by this war ! From the first murmur to the outbreak 



was a brief moment of time, as between the flash of lightning 
and the bursting of the thunder. 

At the beginning of July, there was peace without suspicion 
of interruption. The Legislative Body had just discussed a 
proposition for the reduction" of the annual army contingent. 
At Berlin the Parliament was not in session. Count Bismarck 
was at his country home in Pomerania, the King enjoying him- 
self at Ems. How sudden and unexpected the change will 
appear from an illustrative circumstance. M. Pr^vost-Paradol, 
of rare talent and unhappy destiny, newly appointed Minister 
to the United States, embarked at Havre on the first of July, 
and reached Washington on the evening of the 14th of July. 
He assured me that when he left France, there was no talk or 
thought of war. During his brief summer voyage the whole 
startling event had begun and culminated. The Prince Leo- 
pold HohenzoUern-Sigmaringen being invited to become candi- 
date for the throne of Spain, France promptly sent her defiance 
to Prussia, followed a few days later by formal Declaration of 
War. The Minister was oppressed by the grave tidings coming 
upon liim so unprepared, and sought relief in self-slaughter, 
being the first victim of the war. Everything moved with a 
rapidity borrowed from the new forces supplied by human 
invention, and the gates of war swung wide open. 

Challenge to Peussia. 

A few incidents exhibit this movement. It was on the 30th 
.of June, while discussing the proposed reduction of the army, 
that Emile Ollivier, the Prime Minister, said o[)enly : " The 
Government has no kind of anxiety ; at no epoch was the main- 
tenance of peace more assured ; whatever side you look, you 
see no irritating question." In the same debate, Garnier- 
Pag^s, the consistent Republican, and now a member of the 
Provisional Government, after asking, " Why these arma- 
ments ? " cried out : " Disarm without waiting for others : this 
is practical. Let the people be relieved from the taxes which 
crush them, and from the heaviest of all, the tax of blood." 
The candidature of Prince Leopold seems to have become 
known at Paris on the 5th of July. On the next day, the Duke 
de Gramont, of a family famous in scandalous history, Minister 
of Foreign Affairs, hurries to the tribune with defiance on iiis 
lips After declaring for the Cabinet that no Foreign Power 
could be suffered, by placing one of its princes on the throne 
of Charles the Fifth, to derange the balance of power in Eu- 
rope, and put in peril the interests and the honor of France, ho 
concludes by saying, in ominous words, that, " strong in your 
support, gentlemen, and in that of the nation, we shall know 
how to fulfil our duty without hesitation and without weak- 



8 

ness." This defiance was followed by what is called in the re- 
port, " general and prolonged movement, — repeated applause" ; 
and here was the first stage in the duel. Its character was 
recognized at once in the Chamber. Garnier-Pag^s exclaimed, 
in words worthy of memory : " It is dynastic questions which 
trouble the peace of Europe. The people have reason only to 
love and aid each other." Though short, better than many long 
speeches. Cr^mieux, an associate in the Provisional Gov- 
ernment of 1848, insisted that the utterance of the Minister was 
" a menace of war " ; and Emmanuel Arago, son of the great 
Republican astronomer and mathematician, said that the Min- 
ister " had declared war." These patriotic representatives 
were not mistaken. The speech made peace difficult, if not 
impossible. It was a challenge to Prussia. 

Comedy. 

Europe watched with dismay as the gauntlet was thus 
rudely flung down, while on this side of the Atlantic, where 
France and Germany commingle in the enjoyment of our equal 
citizenship, the interest was intense. Morning and evening the 
telegraph made us all partakers of the hopes and fears agitating 
the world. Too soon it was apparent that the exigence of 
France would not be satisfied, while already her preparations 
for war were undisguised. At all the naval stations, from Tou- 
lon to Cherbourg, the greatest activity prevailed. Marshal 
McMahon was recalled from Algeria, and transports were made 
ready to bring back the troops from that colony. The consent 
of the King of Prussia to the candidature of Prince Leo- 
pold was withdrawn, and he ceased to be a candidate. But 
this was not enough. The King was asked to promise that the 
candidature should in no event hereafter be renewed, which he 
declined to do, reserving to himself the liberty of consulting 
circumstances. Then ensued an incident, proper for comedy, if 
it had not become the declared cause of tragedy. The French 
Ambassador, Count Benedetti, following the King to Ems, his 
favorite watering-place, pressed him in successive interviews, 
when at last his Majesty, after ascertaining that he had come a 
third time on the same errand, let him know, with perfect 
politeness, by his adjutant in attendance, that he had nothing 
further to say to him, and this refusal to receive him was 
promptly communicated by telegraph for the information 
especially of the different German governments. 

Peetext of the Telegram. 

These simple facts, insufficient for the slightest quarrel, in- 
tolerable in the pettiness of the issue disclosed, and mon- 
strous as reason for war between two civilized nations, became 



the welcome pretext. Swiftly,' and with ill-disguised alac- 
rity, the French Cabinet took the next step in the duel. On 
the 15th of July the Prime Minister read from the tribune a 
manifesto, setting forth the griefs of France, being, first, the 
refusal of the Prussian King to promise for the future, and, 
secondly, his refusal to receive the French Ambassador, with the 
communication of this refusal, as was specifically alleged, " offi- 
cially to the Cabinets of Europe " ; and the paper concludes by 
announcing that on the preceding day they had called out the 
reserves, and that they should immediately take the measures 
necessary to guard the interests, the security, and the honor of 
France. This was war. 

Some there were who saw the fearful calamity, the ghastly 
crime, then and there initiated. The scene that ensued belongs 
to this painful record. The paper announcing war was fol- 
lowed by applause, with cries of " bravo." The Prime Minister 
added soon after in debate, that he accepted war with " a light 
heart." Not all were in this mood. Esquiroz, the Repubhcan, 
cried from his seat, in momentous words, " You have a light 
heart, and the blood of nations is about to flow !" To the 
apology of the Prime Minister, " that in the discharge of a 
duty the heart is not troubled," Jules Favre, the Republican 
leader, of acknowledged moderation and ability, flashed forth, 
" When the discharge of this duty involves the slaughter of two 
nations, we may well have the heart troubled !" Beyond these 
declarations, giving utterance to the natural sentiments of hu- 
manity, was the positive objection most forcibly presented 'by 
Thiers, so famous in the Chamber and in literature, that France 
had obtained a concession from Prussia, " which expiated by 
a check the grave fault it had committed," — that France had 
prevailed in substance, and all that remained was " a question 
of form," " a question of words and susceptibilities," " ques- 
tions of etiquette." The experienced statesman asked for the 
despatches. Then came a confession. The Prime Minister 
replied, that he had " nothing to communicate, — that, in the 
true sense of the term, there had been no despatches, — that 
there were only verbal communications preserved in reports, 
which, according to diplomatic usage, are not communicated." 
Here Emmanuel Arago interrupted : " It is on these reports 
that you make war !" The Prime Minister proceeded to read 
two brief telegrams from Count Benedetti at Ems, when De 
Choiseul very justly exclaimed : " We cannot make war on 
that ground ; it is impossible!" Others cried out from their 
seats, — Garnier-Pages saying, " These are phrases "; Emmanuel 
Arago protesting, " On this the civilized world will pronounce 
you wrong" ; to which Jules Favre added, " Unhappily, true !" 
Thiers and Jules Favre, with vigorous eloquence, charged the 
war upon the Cabinet, — Thiers declaring, " I regret to be 



10 

obliged to say that we have war by the fault of the Cabinet " ; 
Jules Pavre alleging, " If we have war, it is thanks to the 
politics of the Cabinet, — from the exposition made, so far as 
the general interests of the country are concerned, there is no 
avowable motive to war." Girault exclaimed, in similar 
spirit : " We would be among the first to come forward in a 
war for the country, but we do not wish to come forward in a 
dynastic and aggressive war." The Duke de Gramont, who 
on the 6th of July flung down the gauntlet, spoke once more for 
the Cabinet, stating solemnly that the Prussian government had 
communicated to all the Cabinets of Europe the refusal to receive 
the Prench Ambassador, and then ejaculating : " It is an outrage 
on the Emperor and on Prance ; and if by impossibility there 
should be in my country a Chamber that would hear and 
tolerate it, I would not remain five minutes Minister of Poreign 
Affairs." In our country we have seen how the Southern heart 
was fired ; so also was fired the heart of Prance. The Duke 
descended from the tribune amidst prolonged applause, with 
cries of " bravo," followed at his seat, so says the report, by nu- 
merous felicitations. Such was the atmosphere of the Chamber 
at this eventful moment. The orators of the Opposition, plead- 
ing for delay in the interest of peace, were stifled, and when 
Gambetta, the young and fearless Republican, made himself 
heard in calling for the text of the despatch communicating the 
refusal to receive the Ambassador, to the end that the Chamber, 
France, and all Europe might judge of its character, he was 
answered by the Prime Minister with the taunt, that " for the 
first time in a Prench Assembly there were such difficulties 
on a certain side, in explaining a question of honors Such 
was the case as presented by the Prime Minister, and oli this 
question of honor he accepted war " with a light heart." Better 
say with no heart at all, — for whoso could find in this condition 
of things a sufficient reason for war was without heart. 

During these brief days of solicitude, from the 6th to the 18th 
of July, England made an unavailing effort for peace. Lord 
Lyons was indefatigable, and he was sustained at home by Lord 
Granville, y^ho as a last resort reminded the two parties of the 
stipulation at the Congress of Paris, which they had accepted, 
in favor of Arbitration as a substitute for War, and asked 
them to accept the good offices of some friendly Power. This 
most reasonable proposition was rejected by the Prench 
Minister, who gave new point to the Prench case by charg- 
ing that Prussia " had chosen to declare that Prance had 
been affronted in the person of her Ambassador," and then 
positively insisting that " it was this boast which was the grava- 
men of the offence." Capping the climax of barbarous absur- 
dity, the Prench Minister did not hesitate to announce that this 



11 

" constituted an insult which no nation of any spirit could brook, 
and rendered it, much to the regret of the French Government, 
impossible to take into consideration the mode of settling the 
original matter in dispute, which was recommended by her Majes- 
ty's Government." (Lord Lyons to Lord Granville, July 16th, 
1870.) Thus was peaceful Arbitration repelled. All honor to 
the English Government for proposing it ! 

The famous telegram put forward by France as the s:Tava^ 
men, or chief offence, was not communicated to the Chamber. 
The Prime Minister, though hard-pressed, held it back. Was 
it from conviction of its too trivial character ? But it is not lost 
to the history of the duel. This telegram, with something of 
the brevity peculiar to telegraphic despatches, merely reports 
the refusal to see the French Ambassador, without one word of 
affront or boast. It reports the fact and nothing else, and it is 
understood that the refusal was only when this functionary 
presented himself the third time on the same business. Con- 
sidering the interests involved, it would have been better, had 
the King seen him as many times as he chose to call ; yet the 
refusal was not unnatural. The perfect courtesy of his Majesty 
on this occasion furnished no cause of complaint. All that 
remained for pretext was the telegram. 

Formal Declaration op War. 

The scene in the Legislative Body was followed by the 
instant introduction of bills making additional appropriations 
for the Army and Navy, calling out the National Guard, ajid 
authorizing volunteers for the war. This last proposition was 
commended by the observation that in France there was a quan- 
tity of young people liking powder, but not liking barracks, 
who would in this way be suited ; and this was received 
with applause. On the 18th of July there was a further appro- 
priation to the extent of 500 million francs, 450 millions being 
for the Army, and 50 for the Navy, — and from 150 to 500 mil- 
lions treasury notes were authorized. On the 20th of July, the 
Duke de Gramont appeared once more at the tribune, and 
made the following speech : — 

" Conformably to customary rules, and by order of the Emperor, 
I have invited the Charge d' Affaires of P'rance to notify the Berlin 
Cabinet of our resolution to seek by arms the guaranties which we 
have not been able to obtain by discussion. This step has been 
accomplished, and I have the honor of making known to the Legis- 
lative Assembly that in consequence a state of war exists be- 
tween France and Prussia, beginning the 19th of July. This decla- 
ration appHes equally to the alHes of Prussia, who lend her the 
cooperation of their arms against us." 



12 

Here the French Minister played the part of trumpeter in the 
duel, making proclamation before his champion rode forward. 
According to the statement of Count Bismarck, m^de to the 
Parliament at Berlin, this formal Declaration of War was the 
solitary official communication from France in this whole trans- 
action, being the first and only note since the candidature of 
Prince Leopold. How swift this madness will be seen in 
a few dates. On the 6th of July was uttered the first defiance 
from the French tribune ; on the 15th of July an exposition of 
the griefs of France in the nature of a Declaration of War, with 
a demand for men and money ; on the 19th of July a state of 
war was declared to exist. Firmly, but in becoming contrast 
with the " light heart " of France, this was promptly accepted 
by Germany, whose heart and strength found expression in 
the speech of the King at the opening of Parliament, hastily 
assembled on the 19th of July. With articulation disturbed by 
emotion and with moistened eyes, his Majesty said, " Leaning 
on the unanimous will of the German governments of the 
South, as of the governments of the North, w^e address ourselves 
to the patriotism and devotion of the German people for the 
defence of their honor and their independence." Parlia- 
ment responded sympathetically to the King, and made the 
necessary appropriations. And thus the two champions stood 
front to front. 

The Two Hostile Parties. 

Throughout France, throughout Germany, the trumpet 
sounded, and everywhere the people sprang to arms, as if the 
great horn of Orlando, after a sleep of ages, had sent forth 
once m re its commanding summons. Not a town, not a vil- 
lage that the voice did not penetrate. Modern invention had 
supplied an ally beyond anything in fable. From all parts of 
France, from all parts of Germany, armed men leaped forward, 
leaving behind the charms of peace and the business of life. On 
each side the muster was mighty, armies counting by the hun- 
dred thousand. And now, before we witness the mutual 
slaughter, let us pause to consider the two parties, and the 
issue between them. 

France and Germany are most unlike, and yet the peers of 
eacli other, while among the nations they are unsurpassed in 
civilization, each prodigious in resources, splendid in genius, 
and great in renown. No two nations are so nearly matched. 
By Germany now I mean not only the States constituting 
North Germany, but also Wiirtemberg, Baden, and Bavaria of 
South Germany, allies in the present war, all of which together 
make fifty-two millions of hectares, being the exact area of 
France. The population of each is not far from thirty-eight 
millions, and it would be difficult to say which is the larger. 



13 

Looking at finances, Germany has the smaller revenue, but also 
the smaller debt, while her rulers, following the sentiment of 
the people, cultivate a wise economy, so that here again sub- 
stantial equality is maintained with France. The armies of 
the two, embracing regular troops and those subject to call, 
cannot differ much in numbers, unless we set aside the author- 
ity of the Almanach de Gotha, which puts the military force of 
France somewhat vaguely at 1,350,000, while that of North 
Germany is only 977,262, to which must be added 60,000 for 
Bavaria, 35,000 for Wiirtemberg, and 43,000 for Baden, mak- 
ing a sum total of 1,115,262, of which more than 765,000 are 
disciplined troops. This, however, is chiefly on paper, where it 
is evident France is stronger than in reality. Her available 
force at the outbreak of the war probably did not amount 
to more than 350,000 bayonets, while that of Germany was 
as much ^ double this number, owing to her superior system. 
In Prussia every man is obliged to serve, and, still further, every 
man is educated. Discipline and education are two potent ad- 
juncts. This is favorable to Germany. In the chassepot and 
needle-gun the two are equal. But France excels in a well- 
appointed Navy, having no less than fifty-five iron-clads and 
numerous other vessels of war, while Germany has not a 
single iron-clad and very few war-ships of any kind. Then 
again for long generations has existed another disparity, to the 
great detriment of Germany. France has been a nation, while 
Germany was divided, and therefore weak. Strong in union, 
the latter now claims something more than that " dominion 
of the air " once acknowledged to be hers, while France had 
the land and England the sea. The dominion of the land is at 
last contested, and we are saddened inexpressibly, that, from 
the elevation they have reached, these two peers of civilization 
can descend to practise the barbarism of war, and especially that 
the land of Descartes, Pascal, Voltaire, and Laplace must chal- 
lenge to bloody duel the land of Luther, Leibnitz, Kant, and 
Humboldt. 

Folly. 

Plainly between these two neighboring Powers there has been 
an unhappy antagonism, constant, if not increasing, partly from 
the memory of other days, and partly because France could not 
bear to witness that German unity which was a national right 
and duty. Often it has been said that war was inevitable. 
But it has come at last by surprise, and on a " question of 
form." So it was called by Thiers ; so it was recognized by 
Ollivier, when he complained of insensibility to a question 
of honor; and so also by the Duke de Gramont, when he re- 
ferred it all to a telegram. This is not the first time in iiis- 
tory that wars have been waged on trifles ; but since the Lord 



u 

of Prauonstein challenged the Free City of Frankfort, because 
a young lady of the city refused to dance with his uncle, nothing 
has passed more absurd than this challenge sent by France to 
Germany, because the King of Prussia refused to see the French 
Ambassador in a third visit on the same matter, and then let 
the refusal be reported by telegraph*. Here is the folly exposed 
by Shakspeare, when Hamlet touches a madness greater than 
his own in tliat spirit whicli would " find quarrel in a straw 
when honor 's at the stake," and at the same time depicts an 
army 

" Led by a delicate and tender prince, 
Exposing what is mortal and unsure 
To all that fortune, death, and danger dare, 
Even for an eggshell." 

There can be no quarrel in a straw or for an eggsl^ll, unless 
men have gone mad. Nor can honor in a civilized age require 
any sacrifice of reason or humanity. 

Unjust Pretension of France to interfere with the Can- 
didature OP Hohenzollern. 

If the utter triviality of the pretext were left doubtful in the 
debate, if its towering absurdity were not plainly apparent, 
if its simple wickedness did not already stand before us, we 
should find all these characteristics glaringly manifest in that 
unjust pretension which preceded the objection of form, on 
which France finally acted. A few words will make this plain. 

In a happy moment Spain rose against Queen Isabella, and 
amidst cries of " Down with the Bourbons !" drove her from the 
throne which she dishonored. This was in September, 1868. 
Instead of constituting a Republic at once, in harmony with 
those popular rights which had been proclaimed, the half- 
hearted leaders proceeded to look about for a King, and from 
that time till now they have been in this quest, as if it were the 
Holy Grail, or happiness on earth. The Royal Family of Spain 
was declared incompetent. Therefore a king must be found 
outside, — and so the quest was continued in other lands. One 
day the throne is offered to a prince of Portugal, then to a 
prince of Italy, but declined by each, — how wisely the future 
will show. At last, after a protracted pursuit of nearly two 
years, the venturesome soldier who is captain-general and 
prime minister. Marshal Prim, conceives the idea of offering it 
to a prince of Germany. His luckless victim is Prince Leo- 
pold Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, a Catholic, thirty-five years of 
age, and colonel of the first regiment of the Prussian foot- 
guards, whose father, a mediatized G(3rman prince, resides at 
Diisseldorf. The prince had not the good sense to decline, but 
accepted. How this acceptance excited the French Cabinet, 



15 

and became the beginning of the French pretext, I have already 
exposed ; and now I come to the pretension itself. 

By what title did France undertake to interfere with the 
choice of Spain ? If the latter was so foolish as to seeic a for- 
eigner for king, making a German first among Spaniards, by 
what title did any other Power attempt to control its will ? To 
state the question is to answer it. Beginning with an outrage 
00 Spanish independence, which the Spain of an earlier day 
would have resented, the next outrage was on Germany, in 
assuming that an insignificant prince of that country could not 
be permitted to accept the invitation, — all of which, besides being 
of insufferable insolence, was in that worst dynastic spirit whicli 
looks to princes rather than tlie people. Plainly France was 
unjustifiable. When I say it was none of her business, I give 
it the mildest condemnation. This was the first step in her 
monstrous blunder- crime. 

Its character a sa pretext becomes painfully manifest, when 
we learn mpre of the famous Prince Leopold, thus invited by 
Spain and opposed by Franco. It is true that his family 
name is in part the same as that of the Prussian king. 
Each is Hohenzollern ; but he adds Sigmaringen---^ to the 
name. The two are different branches of the same family ; 
but you must ascend to the twelfth century, and count more 
than thirty degrees, before you come to a common ances- 
tor. And yet on this most distant and infinitesimal relation- 
ship the French pretension is founded. But audacity changes 
to the ridiculous, wlien it is known that the Prince is nearer 
in relationship to the French Emperor than to the Prussian 
King, and this by three different intermarriages, which do 
not go back to the twelfth century. Here is the case. His 
grandfather had for wife the daughter of Joachim Murat, 
King of Naples, and brother-in-law of the first Napoleon ; and 
his father had for wife the daughter of Stephanie de Beauhar- 
nais, the adopted daughter of the first Napoleon ; so that Prince 
Leopold is by his father great-grandson of Murat, and by his 
mother he is grandson of Stephanie de Beauharnais, adopted 
daughter of the first Napoleon, and aunt to the present Em- 
peror; and to this- may be added still another connection, by 
the marriage of his father's sister with Joachim Napoleon, 
Marquis de Pepoli, grandson of Murat. It was natural that a 
person thus connected with the Imperial Family should be a 
welcome visitor at the Tuileries ; and it is easy to believe that 
Marshal Prim, who offered him the throne, was Ihcouraged to 
believe that the Emperor's kinsman and guest would be favor- 
ably regarded by France. And yet, in the face of these things, 
and the three several family ties, fresh and modern, binding 
him to France and the French Emperor, the pretension was set 



16 

up that his occupation of the Spanish throne would put in 
peril the interests and tlie honor of France. 

Because France was Ready. 

In sending defiance to Prussia on this question, the French 
Cabinet selected their own ground. Evidently a war had been 
meditated, and the candidature of Prince Leopold froija 
beginning to end supplied a pretext. In this conclusion, which 
is too obvious, we are hardly left to inference. The secret 
was disclosed by Rouher, President of the Senate, lately the 
eloquent and unscrupulous Minister, when, in an official ad- 
dress to the Emperor, immediately after the War manifesto 
read by tlie Prime Minister, he declared that France quivered 
with indignation at the excesses of an ambition over-excited by 
the one day's good fortune at Sadowa, and then proceeded : 
" Animated by the calm hope which is the true force of the 
Empire, your Majesty knew how to wait ; but in the four last 
years you have perfected an armament of soldiers, and raised to 
the highest pitch the organization of our military forces. 
Thanks to your care, Sire, France is ready. ^^ Thus, according 
to the President of the Senate, did France, after waiting, com- 
mence war because she was ready, while, according to the 
Cabinet, it was on the point of honor. Both were right. The 
war was declared because the Emperor thought himself ready, 
and a pretext was found in the affair of the telegram. 

Considering the age, and the present demands of civilization, 
such a war stands forth terrific in wrong, making the soul rise 
indignant against it. One reason avowed is brutal ; the other 
is frivolous ; both are criminal. If we look into the text of the 
manifesto and the speeches of the Cabinet, it is a war founded 
on a trifl:e, on a straw, on an eggshell. Obviously these were 
pretexts only. Therefore it is a war of pretexts, the real ob- 
ject being the humiliation and dismemberment of Germany, in 
the vain hope of exalting the French Empire and perpetuating 
a bauble gimcrack crown on the head of a boy. By military 
success and a peace dictated at Berlin, the Emperor trusted to 
find himself in such condition, that, on return to Paris, he could 
overthrow parliamentary government so far as it existed there, 
and reestablish personal government, where all depended upon 
himself, — thus making triumph over Germany the means of 
another triumph over the French people. In other times 
there have 4leen wars as criminal in origin, where trifle, 
straw or eggshell, played its part, but they contrasted less 
with the surrounding civilization. To this list belong the fre- 
quent Dynastic Wars, prompted by the interest, the passion, or 
the whim of some one in the Family of Kings. Others have 
begun in recklessness kindred to that we now witness, — as when 



17 

England entered into war with Holland, and for reason did not 
hesitate to allege an offensive picture in the- Town Hall of Am- 
sterdam. The England of Charles II. was hardly less sensitive 
tlian the France of Louis Napoleon, while in each was similar 
indifference to consequences. But France has precedents of 
her own. From the remarkable correspondence of the Prin- 
cess Palatine, Duchess of Orleans, we learn that one of the 
wars with Holland under Louis XIY. was brought on by the 
Minister, de Lyonne, that he might give employment out of 
France to a personage who had made him jealous of his wife. 
(Letlre de 31 Mars, 1715, Tome I, p. 389.) The communica- 
tive and exuberant Saint-Simon tells us twice over how Lonvois, 
another Minister of Louis XIY, being overruled by his master 
with regard to the dimensions of a window at Yersailles, was 
filled with the idea that " on account of a few inches in a win- 
dow," as he expressed it, all his services would be forgotten, 
and therefore, to save his place, excited a foreign war that 
would make liim necessary to the king. The flames in the 
Palatinate, devouring the works of man, attested his contin- 
uing power. (^ Saint- Simon, Memoires, Tome VII, p. 49; 
XIII, p. 10.) The war became general, but, according to 
the chronicler, it ruined France at home and did not extend 
it abroad. The French Emperor confidently expected to oc- 
cupy the same historic region so often burnt and ravaged by 
French arms, with that castle of Heidelberg which repeats the 
tale of blood, and, let me say, on no better reason than his 
royal predecessor, stimulated by an unprincipled Minister, anx- 
ious for personal position. The parallel is continued in the 
curse which the Imperial arms have brought on France. 

Progress of the War. 

How this war proceeded I need not recount. You have all 
read the record day by day, sorrowing for Humanity, — how, 
after a brief interval of preparation or hesitation, the two com- 
batants first crossed swords at Saarbriicken, within the German 
frontier, and the young Prince Imperial performed his part in 
picking up a bullet from the field, which the Emperor promptly 
reported by telegraph to the Empress, — how this little military 
success is all that was vouchsafed to the man who began the 
war, — how on the 2d of August, fourteen days after the formal 
Declaration, the Germans first trod the soil of France, — how 
soon thereafter victory followed, first on the hillsides of Wis- 
sembourg and then of Woerth, shattering the army of McMahon, 
to which the Empire was looking so confidently, — how another 
large army under Bazaine was driven within tlie strong fortress 
of Metz, — how all the fortresses, bristling with guns and frown- 
ing upon Germany, were invested, — how battle followed battle 



18 

on various fields, where Death was the great conqueror, — how, 
with help of modern art, war showed itself to be murder by 
machinery, — how McMahon, gathering together his scattered 
men and strengthening them with reinforcements, attempted to 
relieve Bazaine, — how at last, after long marches, his large army 
found itself shut up at Sedan with a tempest of fire beating 
upon its huddled ranks, so that its only safety was capitulation, 
— how with the capitulation of the army was the submission of 
the Emperor himself, who gave his sword to the King of Prussia 
and became prisoner of war, — and how, on the reception of 
this news at Paris, Louis Napoleon and his dynasty were di- 
vested of their powers and the Empire was lost in the Republic. 
These things you know. I need not dwell on them. Not to 
battles and their fearful vicissitudes, where all is incarnadined 
with blood, must we look, but to the ideas which prevail, — as 
for the measure of time we look, not to the pendulum in its os- 
cillations, but to the clock in the tower, whose striking tells the 
hours. A great hour for Humanity sounded, when the Repub- 
lic was proclaimed. And this I say, even should it fail again ; 
for every attempt contributes to the final triumph. 

A Wae of Surprises. 

The war, from the pretext at its beginning to the capitulation 
at Sedan, has been a succession of surprises, where the author 
of the pretext was a constant sufferer. Nor is this strange. 
Falstaff says with humorous point, " See now how wit may be 
made a jack-a-lent, when 'tis upon ill employment" ; and another 
character, in a play of Beaumont and Fletcher, reveals the same 
evil destiny in stronger terms, when he says, — 

" Hell gives us art to reach the depths of sin, 
But leaves us wretched fools when we are in." 

And this was precisely the condition of the French Empire. 
Germany perhaps had one surprise, at the sudden adoption 
of the pretext for war. But the Empire has known nothing 
but surprise. A fatal surprise was the promptitude with which 
all the German States, outside of Austrian rule, accepted the 
leadership of Prussia, and joined their forces to hers. Differ- 
ences were forgotten, whether the hate of Hanover, the dread 
of Wiirtemberg, the coolness of Bavaria, the opposition of 
Saxony, or the impatience of the Hanse Towns at lost ^ im- 
portance. Hanover would not rise ; the other States and cities 
would not be detached. On the day after the reading of the War 
Manifesto at the French tribune, even before the King's speech 
to the Northern Parliament, the Southern States began to move. 
German unity stood firm, and this was the supreme surprise for 
France with which the war began. On one day the Emperor 



19 

in his Official Journal declares his object to be the deliverance 
of Bavaria from Prussian oppression, and on the very next day 
the Crown Prince of Prussia, at the head of Bavarian troops, 
crushes an Imperial army. 

Then came the manifest inferiority of the Imperial army, 
everywhere outnumbered, which was another surprise, — the 
manifest inferiority of the Imperial artillery, also a surpx'ise, — 
the manifest inferiority of the Imperial generals, still a surprise. 
Above these was a prevailing inefficiency and improvidence, 
which very soon became conspicuous, and this was a surprise. 
The strength of Germany, as now exhibited, was a surprise. 
And when the German armies entered France, every step was 
a surprise. Wissembourg was a surprise ; so was Woerth ; so 
was Beaumont ; so was Sedan. Every encounter was a sur- 
prise. Abel Drouet, the French general who fell bravely fight- 
ing at Wissembourg, the first sacrifice on the battle-field, was 
surprised ; so was McMahon, not only at the beginning, but at 
the end. He thought that the King and Crown Prince were 
marching on Paris. So they were, — but they turned aside for a 
few days to surprise a whole army of more than a hundred 
thousand men, terrible with cannon and newly invented imple- 
ments of war, under a Marshal of France, and with an Em- 
peror besides. As this succession of siirprises was crowned witli 
what seemed the greatest surprise of all, there remained a greater 
still in the surprise of the French Empire. No Greek Nemesis 
with unrelenting hand ever dealt more incessantly the unavoid- 
able blow, until the Empire fell as a dead body falls, while the 
Emperor becomes a captive and the Empress a fugitive, with 
their only child a fugitive also. The poet says : — 

" Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy 
In sceptred pall come sweeping by." 

It has swept before the eyes of all. Beneath that sceptred 
pall is the dust of a great Empire, founded and ruled by Louis 
Napoleon ; if not the dust of tlie Emperor also, it is because he 
was willing to sacrifice others rather than himself. 

Other French Sovereigns captured on the Battle-field. 

Twice before have French sovereigns yielded on the battle- 
field and become prisoners of war ; but never before was a ca- 
pitulation so vast. Do their fates furnish any lesson ? At the 
Battle of Poictiers, memorable in English history, John, King 
of France, became the prisoner of Edward the Black Prince. 
His nobles, one after another, fell by his side, but he contended 
valiantly to the last, until, spent with fatigue and overcome by 
numbers, he surrendered. His son, of the same age as the son 
of the French Emperor, was wounded while battling for his 



20 

father. The courtesy of the English Prince conquered more 
than his arms. I quote the language of Hume : " More touched 
by Edward's generosity than by his own calamities, he confessed, 
that, notwithstanding his defeat and captivity, his honor was 
still unimpaired, and that, if he yielded the victory, it was at 
least gained by a prince of such consummate valor and human- 
ity." QHume's History of England, chap. 16.) The King 
was taken to England, where, after swelling the triumphal pa- 
geant of his conqueror, he made a disgraceful treaty for the 
dismemberment of France, which the indignant nation would 
not ratify. A captivity of more than four years was termi- 
nated by a ransom of three million crowns in gold, an enor- 
mous sum, more than ten million dollars in our day. Evi- 
dently the King was unfortunate, for he did not continue in 
France, but, under the influence of motives differently stated, 
returned to England, where he died. Surely here is a lesson. 

More famous than John was Francis, with salamander crest, 
also King of France, and rich in gayety, whose countenance, 
depicted by that art of which he was the patron, stands forth 
conspicuous in the line of kings. As the French Emperor at- 
tacked Germany, so did the King ^nter Italy, and he was 
equally confident of victory. On the field of Pavia he encoun- 
tered an army of Charles Y., but commanded by his generals, 
when, after fighting desperately and killing seven men with his 
own hand, he was compelled to surrender. His mother was at the 
time regent of France, and to her he is said to have written the 
sententious letter, " All is lost except honor." No such letter 
was written by Francis, nor do we know of any such letter 
by Louis Napoleon ; but the situation of the two regents 
■was identical. Here are the words in which Hume describes 
the condition of the earlier : " The princess was struck with 
the greatness of the calamity. She saw the kingdom with- 
out a sovereign, without an army, without generals, with- 
out money, surrounded on every side by implacable and vic- 
torious enemies, and her chief resource in her present dis- 
tresses were the hopes she entertained of peace and even of 
assistance from the King of England." (^Hume^s Bistory, chap. 
29.) Francis became the prisoner of Charles V., and was con- 
veyed to Madrid, where, after a year of captivity, he was at 
length released, when, crossing the French frontier, he galloped 
forward, crying out, " I am yet a king ! " Is not the fate of 
Louis Napoleon prefigured in the exile and ^eath of his royal 
predecessor John, rather than in the return of Francis with 
his delighted cry ? 

Louis Napoleon. 

The fall of Louis Napoleon is natural. It is hard to see how 
it could be otherwise, so long as we continue 



21 

« to assert eternal Providence, 
And justify tlie ways of God to man." 

Had he remained successful to the end, and died peacefully on 
the throne, his name would have been a perpetual encourage- 
ment to dishonesty and crime. By treachery without parallel, 
breakino- repeated promises and his oath of office, he was able 
to trample on the Kepublic. Taking his place in the National 
Assembly after long exile, the adventurer made haste to de- 
clare his exultation in regaining his country and all his rights 
as a citizen, with the ejaculation, " The Republic has done me 
this good ' let the Republic receive my oath of gratitude, my 
oath of devotion ! " and next he proclaimed that there was no- 
body to surpass him in determined devotion " to the defence 
of order and to the establishment of the Republic. Good 
words these. Then again, when candidate for the Presidency, 
in a manifesto to the electors, he gave another pledge, announc- 
ing that he " would devote himself altogetlier, without mental 
reservation, to the estabhshment of a Republic, wise in itslaws 
honest in its counsels, great and strong in its acts, and 
he volunteered further words, binding him m special loyalty, 
saying, that he " should make it a point of honor to leave to 
his successor, at the end of four years, power strengthened, 
liberty intact, real progress accomplished." How these p am 
and unequivocal engagements were openly broken you shall 

SGG. 

Chosen by the popular voice, his inauguration took place aS 
President of the Republic, when he solemnly renewed the en- 
gagements ah-eady assumed. Ascending from his seat m the 
Assembly to the tribune, and holding up his hand, he took the 
followino- oath of office : " In presence of God, and before the 
French people, represented by the National Assembly, I swear 
to continue faithful to the Democratic Repubhc one and 
indivisible, and to perform all the duties which the Con- 
stitution imposes upon me." This was an oath. Then, ad- 
dressing the Assembly, he said : " The suffrages of the nation 
and the oath which I have just taken prescribe my future 
conduct. My duty is traced. I will perform it as a man of 
honor." Again he attests his honor. Then, after deserved trib- 
ute to his immediate predecessor and rival, General Cavaignac, 
on his loyalty of character, and that sentiment of duty which 
he declares to be " the first quality in the chief of a State," he 
renews his vows to the Republic, saying, " We have, citizen 
representatives, a great mission to fulfil ; it is to found a Re- 
public in the interest of all" ; and he closed amidst cheers tor 
the Republic. And yet, in the face of this oath of office and 
this succession of most solemn pledges, where he twice attested 
his honor, he had hardly become President before he com- 



22 

menced plotting to make himself Emperor, until at last, by- 
violence and blood, he succeeded in overthrowing the Republic, 
to which he was bound by obligations of gratitude and duty, as 
well as by engagements in such various form. The Empire was 
declared. Then followed his marriage, and a dynastic ambition 
to assure the crown for his son. 

Early in life a " charcoal '•' conspirator against kings, he now 
became a crowned conspirator against republics. The name 
of Republic was to him a reproof, while its glory was a menace. 
Against the Roman Republic he conspired early; and when the 
Rebellion waged by Slavery seemed to afford opportunity, he 
conspired against our Republic, promoting as far as he dared 
the independence of the Slave States, and at the same time on 
the ruins of the Mexican Republic setting up a mock Empire. 
In similar spirit has he conspired against German unity, whose 
just strength promised to be a wall against his unprincipled 
ambition. 

This is but an outline of that incomparable perfidy, which, 
after a career of seeming success, is brought to a close. Of a 
fallen man I would say nothing ; but, for the sake of humanity, 
Louis Napoleon should be exposed. He was of evil example, 
extending with his influence. To measure the vastness of this 
detriment is impossible. In sacrificing the Republic to his own 
aggrandizement, in ruling for a dynasty rather than the peo- 
ple, in subordinating the peace of the world to his own wicked 
ambition for his boy, he set an example of selfishness, and in 
proportion to his triumph was mankind corrupted in its judg- 
ment of human conduct. Teaching men to seek ascendancy at 
the expense of duty, he demoralized not only France, but the 
world. Unquestionably part of this evil example was his 
falsehood to the Republic. Promise, pledge, honor, oath, were 
all violated in this monstrous treason. Never in history was 
greater turpitude. Unquestionably he could have saved the 
Republic, but he preferred his own exaltation. As I am a 
Republican, and believe republican institutions for the good of 
mankind, I cannot pardon the traitor. The people of France 
are ignorant ; he did not care to have them educated, for their 
ignorance was his strength. With education bestowed by him 
the Republic would have been assured. And even after the 
Empire, had he thought more of education and less of his 
dynasty, there would have been a civilization throughout France 
making war impossible. Unquestionably the present war is 
his work, instituted for his imagined advantage. Bacon, in 
one of his remarkable apothegms, tells us that " Extreme self- 
lovers will set a man's house on fire, though it were but to 
roast their eggs." Louis Napoleon has set Europe on fire to 
roast his. 

Beyond the continuing offence of his public life, I charge 



23 

upon him three special and unpardonable crimes : first, that 
violation of public duty and public faith, contrary to all solem- 
nities of promise, by which the whole order of society was 
weakened and human character was degraded ; secondly, dis- 
loyalty to republican institutions, so that through him the 
Republic has been arrested in Europe ; and, thirdly, this cruel 
and causeless war of which he is the guilty author. 

Retribution. 

Of familiar texts in Scripture, there is one which, since the 
murderous outbreak, has been of constant applicability and 
force. You know it : "All they that take the sword shall perish 
with the sword " : and these words are addressed to nations as to 
individuals. France took the sword against Germany, and now 
lies bleeding at every pore. Louis Napoleon took the sword, 
and is nought. Already in that coup d'etat by which he over- 
threw the Republic he took the sword, and now the Empire, 
which was the work of his hands, expires. In Mexico again 
he took the sword, and again paid the fearful penalty, while 
the Austrian Archduke, who, yielding to his pressure, niade 
himself Emperor there, was shot by order of the Mexican 
President, an Indian of unmixed blood. And here there was 
retribution, not only for the French Emperor, but far beyond. 
I know not if there be invisible threads by which the present is 
attached to the distant past, making the descendant suffer even 
for a distant ancestor, but I cannot forget that Maximilian was 
derived from that very family of Charles V., whose conquering 
general, Cortes, stretched the Indian Guatimozin upon a bed 
of fire, and afterwards executed him on a tree. The death of 
Maximilian was tardy retribution for the death of Guatimozin. 
And thus in this world is wrong avenged, sometimes after many 
generations. The fall of the French Emperor is an illustration 
of that same retribution which is so constant. While he yet 
lives, judgment has begun. 

If I accumulate instances, it is because the certainty of retri- 
bution for wrong, and especially for the great wrong of war, is 
a lesson of the present duel to be impressed. Take notice, 
all who would appeal to war, that the way of the transgressor 
is hard, and sooner or later he is overtaken. The ban may 
fall tardily, but it is sure to fall. 

Retribution in another form has already visited France ; nor 
is its terrible vengeance yet spent. Not only are populous 
cities, all throbbing with life and filled with innocent house- 
holds, subjected to siege, but to bombardment also, being that 
most ruthless trial of war, where non-combatants, including 
women and children, sick and aged, share with the soldier his 
peculiar perils, and suffer alike with him. All are equal be- 



24 

fore the hideous shell, crashing, bursting, destroying, killing, 
and changing the fairest scene into blood-spattered wreck. 
Against its vengeful slaughterous descent there is no pro- 
tection for the people, nothing but an uncertain shelter in 
cellars, or, it may be, in the conamon sewers. Already Stras- 
bourg, Toul, and Metz have been called to endure this indiscrim- 
inate massacre, where there is no distinction of persons ; and 
now the same fate is threatened to Paris the beautiful, with its 
thronging population counted by the million. Thus is the 
ancient chalice which France handed to others now commended 
to her own lips. It was France that first in history adopted this 
method of war. Long ago, under Louis XIY., it became a 
favorite ; but it has not escaped the judgment of history. 
Voltaire, with elegant pen, records that " this art, carried soon 
among other nations, served only to multiply human calamities, 
and more than once was dreadful to France, where it was in- 
vented." (Voltaire, Siecle de Louis XIV., chap. 14.) The 
bombardment of Luxemburg in 1683 drew from Sismondi, al- 
ways humane and refined, words most of which are applicable 
to recent events. " Louis XIY.," he says, " was the first to 
put in practice the atrocious method, newly invented, of bom- 
barding towns, * * * of attacking, not fortifications, but 
private houses, not soldiers, but peaceable inhabitants, women 
and children, and of confounding thousands of private crimes, 
each one of which would cause horror, in one great public crime, 
one great disaster, which he regarded only as one of the catas- 
trophes of war." (Sismondi, Histoire des Frangais, Tome 
XXV, p. 452.) Again is the saying fulfilled, " All they that 
take the sword shall perish with the sword." No lapse of time 
can avert the inexorable law. Macbeth saw it in his terrible 
imaginings when he said, — 

" But in these cases 
We still have judgment here ; that we but teach 
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return 
To plague the inventor." 

And what instruction more bloody than the bombardment of a 
city, which now returns to plague the French people ? 

Thus is history something more even than philosophy teach- 
ing by example ; it is sermon with argument and exhorta- 
tion. The simple record of nations preaches ; and whether you 
regard reason or the affections, it is the same. If nations were 
wise or humane, they would not fight. 

Peace after Capitulation at Sedan. 

Yain are lessons of the past or texts of prudence against that 
spirit of War which finds sanction and regulation in Interna- 



25 

tioual Law. While I speak, the two champions still stand 
front to front, Germany exulting in victory, but France in no 
respect submissive. The duel still rages, although one of tlie 
champions is pressed to earth, as in that early combat, where the 
Chevalier Bayard, so eminent in chivalry, thrust his dagger 
into the nostrils of his fallen foe, and then dragged his dead body 
off the field. History now repeats itself, and we witness in 
Germany the very conduct condemned in the famous French 
knight. 

The French Emperor was the aggressor. He began this 
fatal duel. Let him fall, — but not the people of France. 
Cruelly already have they expiated their offence in accepting 
such a ruler. Not always should they suffer. Enough of 
waste, enough of sacrifice, enough of slaughter have they un- 
dergone. Enough have they felt the accursed hoof of war. 

It is easy to see now, that, after the capitulation at Sedan, 
there was a double mistake : first, on the part of Germany, 
which, as magnanimous conqueror, should have proposed peace ; 
and, secondly, on the part of the Republic, which should have 
declined to wage a war of Imperialism. With the capitulation 
of the Emperor the dynastic question was closed. There was 
no longer pretension or pretext, nor was there occasion for war. 
The two parties should have come to an understanding. Why 
continue this terrible homicidal, fratricidal, suicidal combat, 
fraught with mutual death and sacrifice ? Why march on 
Paris ? To what end ? If for the humiliation of France, then 
must it be condemned. 

Three Essential Conditions of Peace. 

In arriving at terms of peace, there are at least three condi- 
tions which cannot be overlooked in the interest of civilization, 
and that the peace may be such in reality as in name, and not 
an armistice only, — three postulates which stand above all ques- 
tion, and dominate this debate, so that any essential departure 
from them must end in wretched failure. 

The first is the natural requirement of Germany, that there 
shall be completest guaranty against future aggression, consti- 
'tuting what is so well known among us as " Security for the 
Future." Count Bismarck, with an exaggeration hardly par- 
donable, alleges more than twenty invasions of Germany by 
France, and declares that these must be stopped forever. Many 
or few, they must be stopped forever. The second condition to 
be regarded is the natural requirement of France, that the guar- 
anty, while sufficient, shall be such as not to wound needlessly 
the sentiments of the French people, or to offend any principle 
of public law. It is difficult to question these two postulates, 
at least in the abstract. Only when we come to the application 



26 

is lliere opportunity for diiference. The third postulate, de- 
manded alike by justice and humanity, is the establishment 
of some rule by which the recurrence of such a barbarous 
duel shall be prevented. It will not be enough to obtain a 
guaranty for Germany ; there must be a guaranty for civili- 
zation itself. 

On careful inquiry, it will be seen that all these can be ac- 
complished in one way only, which I will describe, when 1 have 
first shown what is now put forward and discussed as the claim 
of Germany, under two different heads, indemnity and guar- 
anty. 

Indemnity of Germany. 

I have already spoken of guaranty as an essential condition. 
Indemnity is not essential. At the close of our war with 
Slavery we said nothing of indemnity. For the life of the citi- 
zen there could be no indemnity ; nor was it practicable even 
for the treasure sacrificed. Security for the Future was all 
that our nation required, and this was found in provisions of 
law and constitution establishing equal rights. From various 
intimations it is evident that Germany will not be content with- 
out indemnity in money on a large scale ; and it is also evident 
that France, the aggressor, cannot, when conquered, deny 
liability to a certain extent. The question will be on the 
amount. Already German calculators begin to array their un- 
relenting figures. One of these insists that the indemnity shall 
not only cover outlay for the German army,— pensions of 
widows and invalids, — maintenance and support of French 
wounded and prisoners, — compensation to Germans expelled 
from France, — also damage suffered by the territory to be an- 
nexed, especially Strasbourg ; but it is also to cover indirect 
damages, large in amount, — as, loss to the nation from change of 
productive laborers into soldiers, — loss from killing and disa- 
bling so many laborers, — and, generally, loss from suspension of 
trade and manufactures, depreciation of national property, and 
diminution of the public revenues, — all of which, according to 
a recent estimate, reach the fearful sum-total of 4,935,000,000 
francs, or nearly one thousand million dollars. Of this sum, 
1,255,000,000 francs are on account of the army, 1,230,000,- 
000 for direct damage, 2,260,000,000 for indirect "damage, and 
200,000,000 for damage to the reconquered provinces. Still 
further, the Berlin Chamber of Commerce insists on indemnity 
not only for actual loss of ships and cargoes from the blockade, 
but also for damages on account of detention. Much of tliis 
many-headed account, which I introduce in order to open the 
case in its extent, will be opposed by France, as fabulous, con- 
sequential, and remote. The practical question will be. Can one 
nation do wrong to another without paying for the damage, 



27 

whatever it may be, direct or indirect, — always provided it be 
susceptible of estimate ? Here I content myself with the re- 
mark, that, while, in the settlement of international differences, 
there is no place for technicality, there is always room for 
moderation. 

Guaranty of Dismemberment. 

Yast as may be the claim of indemnity, it opens no question 
so calculated to touch the sensibilities of France as the claim 
of guaranty already announced by Germany. On this head 
we are not left to conjecture. From her first victory we have 
been assured that Germany would claim Alsace and German 
Lorraine, with their famous strongholds ; and now we have the 
statement of Count Bismarck, in a diplomatic circular, that he 
expects to remove the German frontier further west, meaning 
to the Vosges Mountains, and to convert the fortresses into 
what he calls " defensive strongholds of Germany." Then, 
with larger view, he declares, that, " in rendering it more diffi- 
cult for France, from whom all European troubles have so long 
proceeded, to assume the offensive, we likewise promote the 
common interest of Europe, which demands the preservation 
of peace." Here is just recognition of peace as the common 
interest of Europe, to be assured by disabling France. How 
shall this be done ? The German Minister sees nothing but 
dismemberment, consecrated by a Treaty of Peace. With 
diplomatic shears he would cut off a portion of French terri- 
tory, and, taking from it the name of France, stamp upon it 
the trade-mark of Germany. Two of its richest and most 
precious provinces, for two centuries constituent parts of the 
great nation, with that ancient cathedral city, the pride of the 
Ehine, long years ago fortified by Yauban as " the stron- 
gest barrier of France," are to be severed, and with them a 
large and industrious population, which, while preserving the 
German language, have so far blended with France as to be- 
come Frenchmen. This is the German proposition, which I 
call the guaranty of Dismemberment. 

One argument for this proposition is brushed aside easily. 
Had the fortune of war been adverse to Germany, it is said, 
peace would have been dictated at Berlin, perhaps at Konigs- 
berg, and France would have carried her frontier eastward to 
the Rhine, dismembering Germany. Such I doubt not would 
have been the attempt. The conception is entirely worthy of 
that Imperial levity with which the war began. But the mad- 
cap menace of the French Empire cannot be the measure of 
German justice. It is for Germany to show, that, notwithstand- 
ing this wildness, she knows how to be just. Dismemberment 



28 

on this account would be only another form of retaliation ; but 
retaliation is barbarous. 

To the argument, that these provinces, with their strongholds, 
are needeid for the defence of Germany, there is the obvious 
reply, that, if cut off from France contrary to the wishes of the 
local population, and with the French people in chronic irrita- 
tion on this account, they will be places of weakness rather 
than strength, strongholds of disaffection rather than defence, to 
be held always at the cannon's mouth. Does Germany seek 
lasting peace ? Not in this way can it be had. A painful ex- 
action, enforced by triumphant arms, must create a sentiment 
of hostility in France, suppressed for a season, but ready at 
a propitious moment to break forth in violence, so that be- 
tween the two conterminous nations there will be nothing better 
than a peace where each sleeps on its arms, — which is but an 
Armed Peace. Such for weary years has been the condition of 
nations. Is Germany determined to prolong the awful curse ? 
Will her most enlightened people, with poetry, music, literature, 
philosopliy, science, and religion as constant ministers, to whom 
has been opened in rarest degree tlie whole book of knowledge, 
persevere in a brutal policy belonging to another age, and 
utterly alien to that superior civilization which is so truly 
theirs ? 

There is another consideration, not only of justice, but of 
public laWj which cannot be overcome. The people of these 
provinces are unwilling to be separated from France. This is 
enough. France cannot sell or transfer them against their 
consent. Consult the great masters and you will find their 
concurring authority. Grotius, from whom on such a question 
there can be no appeal, adjudges : " In the alienation of part of 
the sovereignty it is required that the part to be alienated con- 
sent to the act.'^ According to him, it must not be supposed 
" that the body should have the right of cutting off parts from 
itself and giving them into the authority of another." ( Grotius, 
de Jure Belli ac Pacis, Lib. II, cap. VI, § 4 ) Of the same 
opinion is Puifendorfif, declaring: " The sovereign who attempts 
to transfer his kingdom to another by his sole authority does 
an act in itself null and void, and not binding on his subjects. 
To make such a conveyance valid, the consent of the people is 
required, as well as of the Prince." (^Puffendorff, Law of Na- 
ture and Nations, Book VIII, chap. 5, § 9.) Vattel crowns 
this testimony, when he adds, that a province " abandoned and 
dismembered is not obliged to receive the new master at- 
tempted to be given it." ( Vattel, Book II, chap. 3, § 261.) 
Before such texts, stronger than a fortress, the soldiers of 
Germany must halt. 

Nor can it be forgotten how inconsistent is the guaranty of 
Dismemberment with that heroic passion for national unity 



29 

which is the glory of Germany. National unity is not less the 
right of France than of Germany ; and these provinces, though 
in former centuries German, and still preserving the German 
speech, belong to the existing unity of France,— unless, according 
to the popular song, the German's Fatherland extends 

" Tar as the German accent rings " ; — 

and then the conqueror must insist on Switzerland ; and why 
not cross the Atlantic, to dictate laws in Pennsylvania and 
Chicago ? But this same song has a better verse, calling that 
the German's Fatherland, 

" Where in the heart love warmly lies." 

But in these coveted provinces it is the love for France, and not 
for Germany, which prevails. 

Guaranty op Disarmament. 

The guaranty of Dismemberment, when brought to the 
touchstone of the three essential conditions, is found wanting. 
Dismissing it as unsatisfactory, I come to that other guaranty 
where these conditions are all fulfilled, and we find security 
for Germany without offence to the just sentiments of France, 
and also a new safeguard to civilization. Against the guaran- 
ty of Dismemberment I oppose the guaranty of Disarma- 
ment. By Disarmament I mean the razing of the French 
fortifications and the abolition of the standing army, except 
that minimum of force required for purposes of police. How 
completely this satisfies the conditions already named is obvi- 
ous. For Germany there would be on the side of France 
absolute repose, so that Count Bismarck need not fear another 
invasion, — while France, saved from intolerable humiliation, 
would herself be free to profit by the new civilization. 

Nor is this guaranty otherwise than practical in _ every 
respect, and the more it is examined will its inestimable 
advantage be apparent. 

1. There is, first, its most obvious economy, which is so glar- 
mg, that, according to a familiar French expression, " it leaps 
into the eyes." Undertaking even briefly to set it forth, I seem 
to follow the proverb and " show the sun with a lantern." 
According to the Almanach de Gotha, the appropriations for the 
army of France, during the year of peace before the war, were 
588,852,970 francs, — or about one hundred and seventeen mil- 
lion's of dollars. Give up the Standing Array and this consider- 
able sum disappears from the annual budget. But this re- 
trenchment represents only partially the prodigious economy. 



30 

Beyond the annual outlay is the loss to the nation by the 
change of producers into non-producers. Admitting that in 
France the average annual production of a soldier usefully 
employed would be only fifty dollars, and multiplying this 
small allowance by the numbers of the Standing Army, you 
have another amount to be piled upon the military appropria- 
tions. Is it too much to expect that this surpassing waste shall 
be stopped ? Must the extravagance born of war, and nursed 
by long tradition, continue to drain the resources of the land ? 
Where is reason ? Where humanity ? A decree abolishing 
the Standing Army would be better for the French people, and 
more productive, than the richest gold mine discovered in every 
department of France. Nor can imagination picture the fruit- 
ful result. I speak now only in the light of economy. Re- 
lieved from intolerable burden, industry would lift itself to 
unimagined labors, and society be quickened anew. 

2. Beyond this economy, which need not be argued, is 
the positive advantage, if not necessity^ of such change for 
France. I do not speak on general grounds applicable to all 
nations, but on grounds peculiar to France at the present 
moment. Emerging from a most destructive war, she will be 
subjected to enormous and most exhaustive contributions of 
every kind. After satisfying Germany, she will find other 
obligations at home, — some pressing directly upon the nation, 
and others upon individuals. Beyond the outstanding pay of 
soldiers, requisitions for supplies, pensions for the wounded 
and the families of the dead, and other extraordinary liabilities 
accumulating as never before in the same time, there will be 
the duty of renewing that internal prosperity which has re- 
ceived such a shock ; and here the work of restoration will be 
costly, whether to the nation or the individual. Revenue must 
be regained ; roads and bridges repaired ; markets supplied ; 
nor can we omit the large and multitudinous losses from rav- 
age of fields, seizure of stock, suspension of business, stoppage 
of manufactures, interference with agriculture, and the whole 
terrible drain of war by which the people are impoverished 
and disabled. If to the necessary appropriation and expendi- 
ture for all these things is superadded the annual tax of a 
Standing Army, and that other draft from the change of pro- 
ducers into non-producers, plainly here is a supplementary 
burden of crushing weight. Talk of the last feather breaking 
the back of the camel, — but never was camel loaded down as 
France. 

3. Beyond even these considerations of economy and ad- 
vantage I put the transcendent, priceless benefit of Disarma- 
ment in the assurance of peace. Disarmament substitutes the 
constable for the soldier, and reduces the Standing Army to a 
police. The argument assumes, first, the needlessness of a 



Standing Army, and, secondly, its evil influence. Both of these 
.points were touched at an early day by the wise Chancellor of 
England, Sir Thomas JVIore, when, in his Introduction to 
" Utopia" he alludes to what he calls the " bad custom" of keeping 
many servants, and then says : " In France there is yet a more 
pestiferous sort of people ; for the whole country is full of sol- 
diers, still kept up in time of peace, — if such a state of a nation 
may be called a peace." Then, proceeding with his judgment, 
the Chancellor holds up what he calls those " pretended states- 
men " whose maxim is that it " is necessary for the public 
safety to have a good body of veteran soldiers ever in readiness." 
And after saying that these pretended statesmen " sometimes 
seek occasions for making war, that they may train up their 
soldiers in the art of cutting throats," he adds, in words soon 
to be tested, " But France has learned to its cost how danger- 
ous it is to feed such beasts." It will be well, if France has 
learned this important lesson. The time has coine to practise it. 
All history is a vain word, and all experience is at fault, if 
large War Preparations, of which the Standing Army is the 
type, have not been constant provocatives of war. Pretended 
protectors against war, they have been real instigators to war. 
They have excited the evil against which they were to guard. 
The habit of wearing arms in private life exercised a kindred 
influence. So long as this habit continued society was dark- 
ened by personal combat, street-fight, duel, and assassination. 
The Standing Army is to the nation what the sword was 
to the modern gentleman, the stiletto to the Italian, the knife 
to the Spaniard, the pistol to our slave-master, — furnishing, like 
these, the means of death ; and its possessor is not slow to use 
it. In stating the operation of this system, we are not left to 
inference. As France, according to Sir Thomas More, shows 
" how dangerous it is to feed such beasts," so does Prussia, in 
ever-memorable instance, which speaks now with more than 
ordinary authority, show precisely how the Standing Array may 
become the incentive to war. Frederick, the warrior king, is 
our witness. With honesty or impudence beyond parallel, he 
did not hesitate to record in his Memoirs, among the reasons for 
his war upon Maria Theresa, that, on coming to the throne, he 
found himself with " troops always ready to act." Voltaire, 
when called to revise the royal memoirs, erased this confession, 
but preserved a copy, so that by his literary activity we have 
this kingly authority for the mischief from a Standing Army. 
How complete a weapon was that army may be learned from 
Lafayette, who, in a letter to Washington, in 1786, after a visit 
to the King, described it thus : " Nothing can be compared to 
the beauty of the troops, to the discipline which reigns in all 
their ranks, to the simplicity of their movements, to tlie unifor- 
mity of their regiments. All the situations which can be sup- 



32 

posed in war, all the movements which these must necessitate, 
have been by constant habit so inculcated in their heads, that 
all these operations are done almost mechanically." (^Lafay- 
ette, Memoires, Tome II, p. 183.) Nothing better has been 
devised since the Macedonian phalanx or the Roman legion. 
With such a weapon ready to his hands, the King struck 
Maria Theresa. And think you that the present duel between 
France and Germany could have been waged, had not both 
nations found themselves, like Frederick of Prussia, " with 
troops always ready to act"? It was the possession of these 
troops which made the two parties rush so swiftly to the com- 
bat. Is not the lesson perfect ? Already individuals have dis- 
armed. Civilization requires that nations shall do likewise. 

Thus is Disarmament enforced on three several grounds: 
first, economy ; secondly, positive advantage, if not necessity, 
for France ; and, thirdly, assurance of peace. No other guar- 
anty promises so much. Does any other guaranty promise 
anything beyond the accident of force ? Nor would France be 
alone. Dismissing to the arts of peace the large army victorious 
over Slavery, our Republic has shown how disarmament can be 
accomplished. The example of France, so entirely reasonable, 
so profitable, so pacific, and so harmonious with ours, would 
spread. Conquering Germany could not resist its influence. 
Nations are taught by example more than by precept, and either is 
better than force. Other nations would follow ; nor would Rus- 
sia, elevated by her great act of enfranchisement, fail to seize 
her sublime opportunity. Popular rights, which are strongest 
always in assured peace, would have new triumphs. Instead of 
Trial by Battle for the decision of differences between nations, 
there would be peaceful substitutes, as Arbitration, or, it may be, 
a Congress of Nations, and the United States of Europe would 
appear above the subsiding waters. The old juggle of Balance 
of Power, which has rested like a nightmare on Europe, would 
disappear, like that other less bloody fiction of Balance of Trade, 
and nations, like individuals, would all be equal before the law. 
Here our own country furnishes an illustration. So long 
as Slavery prevailed among us, there was an attempt to preserve 
what was designated balance of power between the North and 
South, pivoting on Slavery, — just as in Europe there has been 
an attempt to preserve balance of power among nations pivoting 
on War. Too tardily is it seen that this famous balance, 
which has played such a part at home and abroad, is but an 
artificial contrivance instituted by power, which must give 
place to a simple accord derived from the natural condition of 
things. Why should not the harmony which has begun at 
home be extended abroad ? Practicable and beneficent here, 
it must be the same there. Then would nations exist without 
perpetual and reciprocal watchfulness. But the first step is to 



33 

discard the wasteful, oppressive, and pernicious provocative to 
war, which is yet maintained at such terrible cost. To-day 
this glorious advance is presented to France and Germany. 

King William and Count Bismarck. 

Two personages at this present moment hold in their hands 
this great question teeming with a new civilization. Honest 
and determined, both are patriotic rather than cosmopolitan or 
Christian, believing in Prussia rather than Humanity. And 
the patriotism so strong in each keeps still the early tinge of 
iron. I refer to King William and his Prime Minister, Count 
Bismarck. 

More than any other European sovereign, William of Prus- 
sia possesses the infatuation of " divine right." He believes 
that he was appointed by God to be King,— differing here from 
Louis Napoleon, who in a spirit of compromise entitled him- 
self Emperor " by the grace of God and the national will." 
This infatuation was illustrated at his coronation in ancient 
Konigsberg, first home of Prussian royalty, and better famous 
as birthplace and lifelong home of Emmanuel Kant, when 
the King enacted a scene of melodrama which might be 
transferred from the church to the theatre. No other per- 
son was allowed to place the crown on his royal head. Lift- 
ing it from the altar, where it rested, he placed it there him- 
self, in sign that he held it from Heaven and not from man, 
and next placed another on the head of the Queen, in sign 
that her dignity was derived from him. 'Then turning round, 
he brandished a gigantic sword in testimony of readiness to 
defend the nation. Since the Battle of Sadowa, when the 
Austrian Empire was so suddenly shattered, he has believed 
himself providential sword-bearer of Germany, destined, per- 
haps, to revive the old glories of Barbarossa. His habits 
are soldierly, and, notwithstanding his seventy-three years, he 
continues to find pleasure in wearing the spiked helmet of the 
Prussian camp. Republicans smile when he speaks of " my 
array," " my allies," and " my people " ; but this egotism is 
the natural expression of the monarchical character, espe- 
cially where the monarch believes that he holds by " divine 
right." His public conduct is in harmony with these con- 
ditions. He is a Protestant, and rules the land of Luther, 
but he is no friend to modern Reform. The venerable system 
of war and prerogative is part of his inheritance handed down 
from fighting despots, and he evidently believes in it. 

His Minister, Count Bismarck, is the partisan of " divine 
right," and, like the King, regards with satisfaction that hie- 
rarchical feudalism from which they are both derived. He is 
noble and believes in nobility. He believes also in force, as if 



34 

he had the blood of the god Thor. He believes in war, and does 
not hesitate to throw its " iron dice," insisting upon the 
rigors of the game. As the German question began to 
lower, his policy was most persistent. " Not through speeches 
and votes of the majority," he said, in 1862, " are the great 
questions of the time decided, — that was the blunder of 1848 
and 1849, — but by steel and bl(wd." Thus explicit was he. 
Having a policy, he became its representative, and very soon 
thereafter controlled the counsels of his sovereign, coming 
swiftly before the world; and yet his elevation was tardy. 
Born in 1815, he did not enter upon diplomacy until 1851, 
when thirty-sis years of age, and only in 1862 became Prussian 
Minister at Paris, whence he was soon transferred to the Cabi- 
net at Berlin as Prime Minister. Down to that time he was 
little known. His name is not found in any edition of the 
comprehensive French Dictionary of Contemporaries, (^Vape- 
reau^ Dictionnaire des Contemporains,) not even its " additions 
and rectifications," until the Supplement of 1863. But from 
this time he drew so large a share of public attention that the 
contemporary press of the world became the dictionary where 
his name was always found. Nobody doubts his intellectual 
resources, his courage or strength of will, but it is felt that he is 
naturally hard, and little affected by human sympathy. There- 
fore is he an excellent war minister. It remains to be seen 
if he will do as much for peace. His one idea has been the 
unity of Germany under the primacy of Prussia, and here he 
encountered Austria, as he now encounters France. But in 
that larger unity, where nations will be conjoined in harmony, 
he can do less, so long at least as he continues a fanatic for 
kings and a cynic towards popular institutions. 

Such is the King and such his Minister. I have described 
them that you may see how little help the great ideas already 
germinating from bloody fields will receive from them. In this 
respect they are as one. 

Two Influences versus War System. 
Beyond the most persuasive influence of civilization, plead- 
ing as never before, with voice of reason and affection, that the 
universal tyrant and master-evil of Christendom, the War Sys- 
tem, may cease, and the means now absorbed in its support 
be employed for the benefit of the Human Family, there are 
two special influences which cannot be without weight at this 
time. The first is German authority in the writings of philos- 
ophers, by whom Germany rules in thought; and the second is 
the uprising of the Working-Men : both against war as acknowl- 
edged arbiter between nations, and insisting upon peaceful sub- 
stitutes. 



35 

Authority of German Mind. 

More than any other nation Germany has suffered from war. 
Without that fatal gift of beauty, " a dowry fraught with never- 
ending pains," which tempted the foreigner to Italy, her lot 
has been hardly less wretched ; but Germany has differed from 
Italy in the successful bravery with which she repelled the 
invader. Tacitus says of her people, that, " girdled by many 
and most powerful tribes, they have been safe, not by submis- 
sion, but by battles and perils " ;* and this same character, tlms 
epigrammatically presented, has continued ever since. Yet 
this was not without that painful experience which teaches 
what art has so often attempted to picture and eloquence to 
describe, " The Miseries of War," Again in that same fear- 
less spirit has Germany driven back the invader, while war 
is seen anew in its atrocious works. But it was not merely the 
"Miseries of War" which Germans regarded. The German 
mind is philosophical and scientific, and it early saw the irra- 
tional character of the War System. It is well-known that Henry 
IV. of France conceived the idea of Harmony among nations 
without War, and his plan was taken up and elaborated in 
numerous writings by the good Abb^ de Saint-Pierre, so that he 
made it his own. Rousseau in his treatise on the subject popu- 
larized Saint-Pierre. But it is to Germany that we must look 
for the most complete and practical development of this beauti- 
ful idea. If French in origin, it is German now in authority. 

The greatest minds in Germany have dealt with this problem, 
and given to its solution the exactness of science. No greater 
have been applied to any question. Foremost in this list, 
in time and in fame, is Leibnitz, that marvel of human intelli- 
gence, second, perhaps, to none in history, who, on reading the 
Project for Perpetual Peace by the Abbe de Saint-Pierre, pro- 
nounced this judgment : " I have read it with attention, and 
am persuaded that such a Project is on the whole feasible, and 
that its execution would be one of the most useful things in the 
world." (Leibnitz, Opera, Vol. V, pp. 56-62, edit. Dutens.^ 
Thus did Leibnitz affirm its feasibility and its immense useful- 
ness. Other minds followed, in no apparent concert, but in 
unison. I may be pardoned, if, without being too bibliograph- 
ical, I name some of these witnesses. 

At Gottingen, renowned for its University, the question was 
opened, at the close of the Seven Years' War in 1763, in a 
work by Totze, whose character appears in its title, " Permanent 
and Universal Peace, according to the Plan of Henry IV." 
(^Ewiger und al/g-emeiner Friede nach der Entvmrf Heinrichs 
/F.) At Leipzig, also the seat of a University, the subject was 

* Plurimis ac valentissimis nationibus cincti, non per obsequium, sed 
prcBliis et periclitando tuti sunt. — De Moribus Germ. cap. 4. 



36 

presented in 1767 by Lilienfeld, in a treatise of much complete- 
ness, under the name of " New Constitution for States " QNeues 
Staatsg-ebciude), where, after exposing the wretched chances of 
tlie battle-field and the expense of armaments in time of peace, 
the author urges submission to Arbitrators, unless a Supreme 
Tribunal is established to administer International Law and to 
judge between nations. In 1804 appeared another work, of 
singular clearness and force by Karl Schwab, entitled " Of 
Unavoidable Injustice" {Ueber das unvermeidliche UnrechQ, 
where the author describes what he calls the Universal State, in 
which nations will be to each other as citizens in the Municipal 
State. Be is not so visionary as to imagine that justice will al- 
ways be inviolate between nations in the Universal State, for it is 
not always so between citizens in the Municipal State ; but he 
confidently looks to the establishment between nations of the 
rules which now subsist between citizens, whose differences are 
settled peaceably by judicial tribunals. 

These works, justly important for the light they shed, and as 
expressions of a growing sentiment, are eclipsed in the contribu- 
tions of the great teacher, Emmanuel Kant, who, after his fame in 
philosophy was established, so that his works were discussed and 
expounded not only throughout Germany, but in other lands, 
in 1796 gave to the world a treatise entitled " On Perpetual 
Peace " (Zwm ewigen Frieden), which was promptly translated 
into French, Danish, and Dutcli. Two other works by him 
attest his interest in the subject, the first entitled " Idea for a 
General History in a Cosmopolitan View " (^Idee zu einer al/ge- 
meinen Gescldchte in weltburgerlicher Absicht), and the other, 
" Metaphysical Elements of Jurisprudence," (^Metaphysische 
Anfangsgrunde der Rechtslehre^. His grasp was complete. 
A treaty of peace which tacitly acknowledges the right to wage 
war, as all treaties now do, according to Kant, is nothing more 
than a truce. An individual war may be ended, but not the 
state of war ; so that, even after cessation of hostilities, there 
will be constant fear of their renewal, while the armaments 
known as Peace Establishments will tend to provoke them. All 
this should be changed, and nations should form one compre- 
hensive Federation, which, receiving other nations within its 
fold, will at last embrace the civilized world; and such, in the 
judgment of Kant, was the irresistible tendency of nations. 
To a French poet we are indebted for the most suggestive term, 
" United States of Europe " ; but this is nothing but the Fed- 
eration of the illustrious German philosopher. Nor was Kant 
alone among his great contemporaries. That other philosopher, 
Fichte, whose name at the time was second only to that of Kant, 
,iu his " Groundwork of the Law of Nature " {Grundlage des 
Naturrec/its'), published in 1796, also urges a Federation of 
Nations, with an established tribunal to which all should submit. 



37 

Much better for civilization, bad the King at Konigsberg, in 
stead of brandishing bis gigantic sword, hearkened to the voice 
of Kant, renewed by Fichte. 

With these German oracles in its support, the cause cannot be 
put aside. Even in the midst of war, Philosopby will be heard, 
especially when she speaks words of concurring authority 
tbat touch a chord in every heart. Leibnitz, Kant, and 
Fichte, a mighty triumvirate of intelligence, unite in testimony. 
As Germany, beyond any other nation, has given to the idea of 
Organized Peace the warrant of philosophy, it only remains now 
that it should insist upon its practical application. There 
should be no delay. Long enough has mankind waited while 
the river of blood flowed on. 

Uprising of Working-Men. 

The working-men of Europe, not excepting Germany, respond 
to the mandate of Philosophy, and insist that the War System 
shall be abolished. At public meetings, in formal resolutions 
and addresses, they have declared war against War, and they 
will not be silenced. This is not the first time in wliich work- 
ing-men have made themselves heard for international justice. 
I cannot forget, that, while Slavery was waging war against our 
nation, the working-men of Belgium in public meeting protested 
against that precocious Proclamation of Belligerent Rights 
by which the British Government gave such impulse to the 
EebelHon ; and now, in the same spirit, and for the sake of 
true peace, they declare themselves against that War System by 
which the peace of nations is placed in such constant jeopardy. 
They are right; for nobody suffers in war as the working-man, 
whether in property or in person. For him war is a ravening 
monster, devouring his substance, and changing him from cit- 
izen to military serf. As victim of the War System he is enti- 
tled to be heard. 

The working-men of different countries have been organ- 
izing in societies, of which it is difficult at present to tell the 
number and extent. It is known that these societies exist in 
Germany, France, Spain, Italy, and England, as well as in our 
own country, and that they have in some measure an interna- 
tional character. In France, before the war, there were 438,785 
men in the organization, and in Germany 160,000. Yet this is 
but the beginning. 

At the menace of the present war, all those societies were 
roused. The society known as the International Working-Men's 
Association, by their General Council, issued an address, dated 
at London, protesting against it as " a war of dynasties," de- 
nouncing Louis Napoleon as an enemy of the laboring classes, 
and declaring the war plot of 1870 but an amended edi- 



38 

tion of the coup cVStat of 1851. The address then testifies gen- 
erally against war, saying, — 

" They feel deeply convinced, that, whatever turn the impending horrid 
war may take, ilce alliance of the working classes of all countries will ultimately 
kill war." 

At the same time the Paris branch of the International Asso- 
ciation put forth a manifesto addressed " To the working-men of 
all nations," from which I take these passages : — 

" Once more, on the pretext of the European equilibrium, of national honor, 
the peace of the world is menaced by political ambitions. French, German, 
Spanish workmen ! let our voices unite in one cry of reprobation against war ! 
* * * * War for a question of preponderance, or a dynasty, can, 
in the eyes of working-men, be nothing but a criminal absurdity. In answer 
to the warlike proclamations of those who exempt themselves from the impost 
of blood, and find in public misfortunes a source of fresh speculations, we pro- 
test, — we who want peace, labor, and liberty. * * Brothers of Germany ! 
our division would only result in the complete triumph of despotism on both 
sides of ike Rhine. * * Working-men of all countries ! whatever may for the 
present, become of our common efforts, we, the members of the International 
Working-Men's Association, who know of no frontiers, we send you, as a pledge 
of indissoluble solidarity, the good wishes and the salutations of the workiog- 
men of France." ' 

To this appeal, so full of truth, touching to the quick the 
pretence of balance of power and questions of dynasty as excuses 
for war, and then rising to " one cry of reprobation against 
war," the Berlin branch of the International Association 
replied : — 

" We join with heart and hand in your protestation. * * Solemnly we 
promise that neither the sound of the trumpet nor the roar of cannon, neither 
victory nor defeat, shall divert us from our work of the union of the children 
of toil in all countries." 

Then came a meeting of delegates at Chemnitz, in Saxony, 
representing fifty thousand Saxon working-men, which put forth 
the following hardy words : — 

" We are happy to grasp the fraternal hand stretched out to us by the work- 
ing-men of France. * * Mindful of the watchword of the International 
Working-Men's Association, Proletarians of all countries, unite ! we shall never 
forget that the working-men of all countries are our friends — and the despots 
of all countries our enemies." 

Next followed, at Brunswick, in Germany, on the 16th of July, 
— the very day after the reading of the war document at the 
French tribune, and the " light heart" of the Prime Minister, — a 
mass meeting of the working-men there, which declared its full 
concurrence with the manifesto of the Paris branch, spurned 



39 

the idea of national antagonism to France, and wound up with 
these solid words : " We are the enemies of all wars, but above 
all of dynastic wars." 

The whole subject is presented with admirable power in an 
address from the Working-Men's Peace Committee to the work- 
ing-men of Great Britain and Ireland, duly signed by their offi- 
cers. Here are some of its sentences : — 

» Without us war must cease ; for without us standing armies could not 
exist. It is out of our class that they are formed. « * We would call 
upon and implore the peoples of France and Germany, in order to, enable 
their own rulers to realise these their peace-loving professions, to insist upon 
the. abolition of standing armies, as both the source and the means of war, 
nurseries of vice, and locust-consumers of the fruits of useful industry. 

" What we claim and demand — what we would implore the peoples of Eu- 
rope to do, without regard to Courts, Cabinets, or Dynasties — is to insist upon 
Arbitration as a substitute for war, with peace and its blessings for them, for us, 
for the whole civilized world." 

The working-men of England responded to this appeal, in a 
crowded meeting at St. James's Hall, London, where all the 
speakers were working-men and representatives of the various 
handicrafts, except the Chairman, whose strong words found 
echo in the intense convictions of the large assemblage : — 

" One object of this meeting was to make the horror universally inspired 
by the enormous and cruel carnage of this terrible war the groundwork for 
appealing to the working classes and the people of all other European coun- 
tries to join in protesting against war altogether Iprolonged cheers'], as the 
shame of Christendom, and direct curse and scourge of the human race._ Let 
the will of the people sweep away war, which could not be waged without 
them. ["iZear/"] Away with enormous standing armies, ["Hear/"] the 
nurseries and instruments of war, — nurseries, too, of vice, and crushing bur- 
dens upon national wealth and prosperity! Let there go forth from the 
people of this and other lands one universal and all-overpowering cry and 
demand for the blessings of peace." 

At this meeting the Honorary Secretary of the Working- 
Men's Peace Committee, after announcing that the working- 
men of upwards of three hundred towns had given their adhe- 
sion to the platform of the Committee, thus showing a determi- 
nation to abolish war altogether, moved the following resolu- 
tion, which was adopted : — 

" That war, especially with the present many fearful contrivances for whole- 
sale carnage and destruction, is repugnant to every principle of reason, 
humanity, and religion ; and this meeting earnestly invites all civilized and 
Christian peoples to insist upon the abolition of standing armies, and the set- 
tlement by arbitration of all international disputes." 

Thus clearly is the case stated by the Working-Men, now be- 
ginning to be heard, and the testimony is reverberated from na- 
tion to nation. They cannot be silent hereafter. I confidently 



40 

look to them for important cooperation in this great work of 
redemption. Could my voice reach them now, wherever they 
may be in that honest toil which is the appointed lot of man, 
it would be with words of cheer and encouragement. Let them 
proceed until civilization is no longer darkened by war. In this 
way will they become not only saviours to their own house- 
holds, but benefactors of the whole Human Family. 

Abolition of the War System. 

Such is the statement, with its many proofs, by which war 
is exhibited as the duel of nations, being the Trial by Battle of 
the Dark Ages. You have seen how nations, under existing 
International Law, to which all are parties, refer their differ- 
ences to this insensate arbitrament, — and then how, in our day 
and before our own eyes, two nations, eminent in civilization, 
have furnished an instance of the incredible folly, waging 
together a world-convulsing, soul-harrowing and most bar- 
barous contest. All ask how long the direful duel will be con- 
tinued. Better ask, How long will be continued that War 
System by which such a duel is authorized and regulated 
among nations ? When will this legalized, organized crime be 
abolished ? When at last will it be confessed that the Law of 
Right is the same for nations as for individuals, so that, if 
Trial by Battle be impious for individuals, it is so for nations 
also ? Against it are Reason and Humanity, pleading as never 
before, — Economy asking for mighty help, — Peace with softest 
voice praying for safeguard, — and then the authority of Philos- 
ophy speaking by some of its greatest masters, — all reinforced 
by the irrepressible, irresistible protest of working-men in 
different nations. 

Precedents exist for the abolition of this duel, so completely 
in point, that, according to the lawyer's phrase, they " go on 
all fours " with the new case. Two of these have been already 
mentioned : first, when, at the Diet of Worms, in 1495, the 
Emperor Maximilian proclaimed a permanent peace through- 
out Germany, and abolished the "liberty" of Private War; 
and, secondly, when, in 1815, the German Principalities stipu- 
lated " under no pretext to declare war against one another, 
nor to pursue their mutual differences by force of arms." But 
first in time, and perhaps in importance, was the great Ordi- 
nance of St. Louis, king of France, promulgated at a Parlia- 
ment in 1260, where he says : '- We forbid to all persons 
throvgkout our dominions the Trial by Battle, and, instead of 
battles, we establish pooofs by witnesses. * * * And these 
Battles we abolish in our Dominions forever." {Guizot, 
Histoire de la Civilisation en France, Tome IV, pp. 162-164.) 
These at the time were great words, and they continue great as 



4:1 

an example. Their acceptance by any two nations would begin 
the work of abolition, which would be completed on their adop- 
tion by a Congress of Nations, taking from war its existing 
sanction. 

The Wobld a Gladiatorial Amphitheatre. 

The growing tendencies of mankind in this direction have 
been quickened by the character of the present war, and the 
unexampled publicity with which it has been waged. Never 
before were all nations, even those separated by great spaces, 
whether of land or ocean, the daily and excited spectators of 
the combat. The vast amphitheatre within which the battle is 
fought, with the whole heavens for its roof, is coextensive 
with civilization itself. The scene in that great Flavian amphi- 
theatre, the famous Colosseum, is a faint type of what we are 
witnessing ; but that is not without its lesson. Bloody games, 
where human beings contended with lions and tigers, imported 
for the purpose, or with each other, constituted an institution 
of ancient Rome, only mildly rebuked by Cicero, and adopted 
even by Titus, in that short reign so much praised as unspotted 
by the blood of the citizen. One hundred thousand spectators 
looked on, while gladiators from Germany and Gaul joined 
in ferocious combat, and then, as blood began to flow, and 
victim after victim sank upon the sand, the people caught 
the fierce contagion. A common ferocity ruled tlie scene. As 
Christianity prevailed, the incongruity of sucli an institution 
was widely felt ; but still it continued. At last an Eastern 
monk, moved only by report, journeyed a long way to protest 
against the impiety. With noble enthusiasm he leaped into the 
arena, where the battle raged, in order to separate the com- 
batants. He was unsuccessful, an.d paid with life the penalty 
of his humanity. But the martyr triumphed where the monk 
had failed. Shortly afterwards the Emperor Honorius by 
solemn decree put an end to this horrid custom. " The first 
Christian Emperor," says Gibbon, " may claim the honor of 
the first edict which condemned the art and amusement of 
shedding human blood." (^Gibbon, Vol. IV, p. 40, chap. 30.) 
Our amphitheatre is larger than that of Rome ; but it witnesses 
scenes not less revolting ; nor need any monk journey a long 
way to protest against the impiety. That protest can be 
uttered by every one here at honje. We are all spectators ; and 
since by human craft the civilized world has become one mighty 
Colosseum, with place for everybody, may we not insist that 
the bloody games by which it is yet polluted shall cease, and 
that, instead of mutual-murdering gladiators, filling the near- 
brought scene with death, there shall be a harmonious people, 
of different nations, but one fellowship, vying together only 



42 

in works of industry and art, inspired and exalted by a divine 
beneficence ? 

In presenting this picture I exaggerate nothing. How feeble 
is language to depict the stupendous barbarism ! How small 
by its side the bloody games which degraded ancient Rome ! 
How pygmy the one, how colossal the other ! Would you 
know how the combat is conducted ? Here is the briefest pic- 
ture of the arena, by a looker-on : — 

" Let your readers fancy masses of colored rags glued together with blood 
and brains, and pinned into strange shapes by fragments of bones. Let them 
conceive men's bodies without heads, legs without bodies, heaps of human en- 
trails attached to red and blue cloth, and disembowelled corpses in uniform, 
bodies lying about in all attitudes, with skulls shattered, faces blown off, hips 
smashed, bones, flesh, and gay clothing all pounded together, as if brayed in a 
mortar, extending for miles, not very thick in any one place, but recurring 
perpetually for weary hours, and then they cannot, with the most vivid imag- 
ination, come up to the sickening reality of that butchery." 

Such a sight would have shocked the Heathen of Rome. 
They could not have looked on, while the brave gladiator was 
thus changed into a bloody hash ; least of all could they have 
seen the work of slaughter done by machinery. Nor could 
any German gladiator have written the letter I proceed to 
quote from a German soldier : — 

" I do not know how it is, but one wholly forgets the danger one is in, and 
thinks only of the effect of one's own bullets, rejoicing, like a child, at the 
sight of the enemy falling like skittles, and having scarcely a compassionate 
glance to spare for the comrade falling at one's side. One ceases to be a 
human being, and turns into a brute, a complete brute." 

Plain confession ! And yet the duel continues. Nor is there 
death for the armed man only. Fire mingles with slaughter, 
as at Bazeilles. Women and children are roasted alive, filling 
the air with suffocating odor, while the maddened combatants 
rage against each other. All this is but part of the prolonged 
and various spectacle, where the scene shifts only for some 
other horror. Meanwhile the sovereigns of the world sit in 
their boxes, and the people everywhere occupy the benches. 

Peril feom the War System. 

The duel now pending teaches the peril from continu- 
ance of the present system. If France and Germany can be 
brought so suddenly into collision on a mere pretext, what two 
nations are entirely safe ? Where is the talisman for their pro- 
tection ? None, surely, except Disarmament, which, therefore, 
for the interest of all nations, should be commenced. Prussia 
is now an acknowledged military power, " armed in complete 
steel " ; but at what cost to her people, if not to mankind ! 



43 

Military citizenship, according to Prussian rule, is military serf- 
dom and on this is elevated a military despotism of singular 
grasp and power, operating throughout the whole nation, 
like martial law or a state of siege. In Prussia the aw 
tyrannically seizes every youth of eighteen, and, no matter 
what his calling or profession, compels him to military service 
for seven years. Three years he spends in the regular arnay, 
where his life is surrendered to the trade of blood. Then for 
four years he passes to the Landwehr, or militia, where he is 
subject to periodic military drills ; then for nine years longer 
to the Landsturm, with liability to service in case of war until 
fifty. Wherever he may be in foreign lands, his military duty 

is paramount. „ . ,, i. -i. u 

But if this system be good for Prussia, then must it be 
equally good for other nations. If this economical government, 
with education for all, subordinates the business of life to the 
military drill, other nations will find too much reason for doing 
the same. Unless the War System is abandoned, all must fol- 
low the successful example, while the civilized world becomes 
a busy camp, with every citizen for a soldier, and with all sounds 
swallowed up in the tocsin of war. Where, then, are the peo- 
ple ? Where are popular rights ? Montesquieu has not hesitat- 
ed to declare that the peril to free governments proceeds from 
armies, and that this peril is not corrected even by making them 
depend directly on the legislative power. This is not enough. 
The armies must be reduced in number and force. Among his 
papers, found since his death, is the prediction, " Europe will 
be lost through her military." ( Villemain, Corns de Littera- 
ture Frangaise, Tome I, p. 423, 15«^« Lepow.) It is the privi- 
lege of genius like that of Montesquieu to lift the curtain of the 
future; but even he did not see the vastness of suffering in store 
for his own country through those armies against which he 
warned. For years the engine of despotism at home, they be- 
came the sudden instrument of war abroad. Without them 
Louis Napoleon could not have made himself Emperor, nor 
could he have hurried Prance into the present duel. If needed 
in other days, they are not needed now. The War System, 
always barbarous, is an anachronism, full of peril both to peace 
and liberal institutions. 

Peace. 

An army is a despotism ; military service is a bondage ; nor 
can the passion for arms be reconciled with a true civilization. 
The present failure to acknowledge this incompatibility is only 
another illustration how the clear light of truth is discolored 
and refracted by an atmosphere where the cloud of war still 
lingers. Soon must this cloud be dispersed. From war to 



44 

peace is a change indeed ; but nature herself testifies to change. 
Siriiis, largest and brightest of all the fixed stars, was noted by 
Ptolemy as fiery-red, and by Seneca as redder than Mars, but 
since then it has changed to white. To the morose remark, 
whether in the philosophy of Hobbes or the apology of the 
soldier, that man is a fighting animal and that war is nat- 
ural, I reply, — natural for savages rejoicing in the tattoo, nat- 
ural for barbarians rejoicing in violence, but not natural for 
man in a true civilization, which 1 insist is the natural state to 
which he tends by a sure progression. The true state of Nature 
is not war, but peace. Not only every war, but every recogni- 
tion of war as the mode of determining international differ- 
ences, is evidence that we are yet barbarians, — and so also is 
every ambition for empire founded on force, and not on the 
consent of the people. A ghastly, bleeding human head was 
discovered by the early Romans, as they dug the foundations of 
that Capitol which finally swayed the world. That ghastly, 
bleeding human head is the fit symbol of military power. 

Let the War System be abolished, and, in the glory of this 
consummation, how vulgar all that comes from battle ! By the 
side of this serene, beneficent civilization, how petty in its pre- 
tensions is military power, how vain its triumphs ! At this 
moment the great general who has organized victory for Ger- 
many is veiled, and his name does not appear even in the 
military bulletins. Thus is the glory of arms passing from 
sight, and battle losing its ancient renown. Peace does not 
arrest the mind like war. It does not glare like battle. Its 
operations, like those of Nature, are gentle, yet sure. It is not 
the tumbling, sounding cataract, but the tranquil, fruitful river. 
Even the majestic Niagara, with thunder like war, can- 
not compare with the peaceful plains of water which it 
divides. How easy to see that the repose of nations, like the 
repose of Nature, is the great parent of the most precious 
bounties vouchsafed by Providence ! Add peace to Liberty, 

" And with that virtue every virtue lives." 

As peace is assured, the traditional sensibilities of nations will 
disappear. Their frontiers will no longer frown with hostile 
cannon, nor will their people be nursed to hate each other. 
By ties of constant fellowship will they be interwoven together, 
no sudden trumpet waking to arms, no sharp summons dis- 
turbing the uniform repose. By steam, by telegraph, by the 
press, have they already conquered time, subdued space, thus 
breaking down old walls of partition by which they have been 
separated. Ancient example loses its influence. The preju- 
dices of another generation are removed, and a new geog- 
raphy gives place to the old. The heavens are divided into 



45 

constellations, with names from beasts, or from some form of 
brute force, as Leo, Taurus, Sagittarius, and Orion with his club ; 
but this is human device. By similar scheme is the earth di- 
vided. But in the sight of God there is one Human Family 
without division, where all are equal in rights, and the attempt 
to set up distinctions, keeping men asunder, or in barbarous 
groups, is a practical denial of that great truth, religious and 
political, the Brotherhood of Man. The Christian's Fatherland 
is not merely the nation in which he was born, but the whole 
earth appointed by the Heavenly Father for his home. In this 
Fatherland there can be no place for unfriendly boundaries set 
up by any, — least of all place for the War System, making 
nations as hostile camps. 

At Lassa, in Thibet, there is a venerable stone in memory of 
the treaty between the courts of Thibet and China, as long ago 
as 821, bearing an inscription worthy of a true civilization. 
From Eastern story learn now the beauty of peace. After the 
titles of the two august sovereigns, the monument proceeds : 
" These two wise, holy, spiritual, and accomplished princes, 
foreseeing the changes hidden in the most distant futurity, 
touched with sentiments of compassion towards their people, and 
not knowing, in their beneficent protection , any difference between 
their subjects and strangers, have, after mature reflection and by 
mutual consent, resolved to give peace to their people. * * 
In perfect harmony with each other, they will henceforth be 
good neighbors, and will do their utmost to draw still closer the 
bonds of union and friendship. * * In preserving their limits, 
the respective parties shall not attack each other in arms, or 
make any incursions beyond the frontiers now determined." 
Then declaring that the two must reciprocally exalt their 
virtues and banish all mistrust, that travellers may be without 
uneasiness, that the inhabitants of villages may live at peace, 
and that nothing may happen to cause misunderstanding, the 
inscription announces, in terms doubtless Oriental : " This ben- 
efit will be extended to future generations, and the voice of 
love towards its authors will be heard wherever the splendor of 
the sun and the moon is seen. The Pho will be tranquil in 
their kingdom, and the Han will be joyful in their empire." 
( Timkoiv ski's Travels through Mongolia and China, Vol. I, pp. 
461-468.) Such is the benediction which from early times 
has spoken from one of the monuments erected by the god 
Terminus. Call it Oriental ; would it were universal ! While 
recognizing a frontier, there is equal recognition of peace as the 
rule of international life. 

The Republic. 

In the abolition of the War System the will of the people 
must become all-powerfal, exalting the Republic to its just 



46 

place as the natural expression of citizenship. At St. Helena 
Napoleon uttered the famous prophecy, that in fifty years 
Europe would be Republican or Cossack. The fifty years will 
expire in 1871. Evidently Europe will not be Cossack, unless 
the Cossack is already changed to Republican, — as well may 
be, when it is known, that, since the great act of Enfranchise- 
ment, in February, 1860, by which twenty-three millions of serfs 
were raised to citizenship, with the right to vote, eleven thousand 
miles of railway have been opened in Russia, and fifteen thou- 
sand three hundred and fifty public schools. A better than 
Napoleon, who saw mankind with truer insight, Lafayette, has 
recorded a clearer prophecy. At the foundation of the monu- 
ment on Bunker Hill, on the semi-centennial anniversary of the 
battle, 17th June, 1825, our much-honored national guest gave 
as a toast : " Bunker Hill, and the holy resistance to oppression, 
which has already enfranchised the American hemisphere. The 
next half-century's Jubilee toast shall be to Enfranchised 
Europe.''^ The close of that half-century, already so prolific, is 
at hand. Shall it behold the great Jubilee with all its vastness 
of promise accomplished ? Enfranchised Europe, foretold by 
Lafayette, means not only the Republic for all, but Peace for 
all ; it means the United States of Europe, with the War System 
abolished. Against that little faith through which so much fails 
in life, I declare my unalterable conviction, that" government of 
the people, by the people, and for the people " — thus simply de- 
scribed by Abraham Lincoln — is a necessity of civilization, not 
only because of that republican equality without distinction of 
birth, which it establishes, but for its assurance of permanent 
peace. All privilege is usurpation, and, like Slavery, a state of 
war, relieved only by truce, to be broken by the people in their 
strength. To the people alone can mankind look for the repose 
of nations ; but the Republic is the embodied people. All hail 
to the Republic, equal guardian of all, and angel of peace ! 

Our own part is simple. It is, first, to keep out of war, — 
and, next, to stand firm in those ideas which are the life 
of the Republic. Peace is our supreme vocation. To this we 
are called. By this we succeed. Our example is more than 
an army. But not on this account can we be indifferent, when 
Human Rights are assailed or republican institutions are in 
question. Garibaldi asks for a " word," that easiest expression 
of power. Strange wil) it be, when that is not given. 
To the Republic, and to all struggling for Human Rights, 
I give word, with heart on the lips. Word and heart I give. 
Nor would I have my country forget at. any time, in the dis- 
charge of its transcendent duties, that, since the rule of con- 
duct and of honor is the same for nations as for individuals, 
the greatest nation is that which does most for Humanity. 



" cc: ' 



- ; C- C, 



m 



<: cc ^ 
cncc c^ 
c:tc <^ 



cc < 
c c 
< c < 
c <^ * 
c c 

<L <- 

c: "C 

<! C 



^_ cc ^_ 

ICC ^ 

4c: c ' ^ 






'-^ c^<. 

- t;. c 
= C c 

"^ c. ^^ 

^CC ' 

:^ <: 






c. ^'^ 
c; ^ ^ 






- c ^ 



.C1--C1 
ci/cC: 

ccc: 

1^ 






c- <-^ 



I^J^ 



= c ^ 

-.. <ac^ c c . 

-- <3C c C ^ 

\ c <S CC 



c c 
<r C 
«< c 

11 

f c 

5t ^ 



11 



a ■ . cC 
C . .f ^c 

(c f c/c 

r< . C«^ 

r. . C<- 

a-cc.. 



Cc V 






c c 

c < 

C c 

c c 

c c ■ 






t Cl_ 


-■ ■. "- V. '^ ^ 


6- <c: 'V 


■t <c c: •^^ 


« <r 


c d c; «i 


<- <zi ■ 


< C C 4 


c; c;^_ ' 


C <! CL * 




< <^ <^- 


r c~" 


c <: < 


. c <: 


c: <:: <- -c; 


.... c c 


<. ci'.c:. 


' '■, c 


t <1 <L^ 


-.>- ^<_: 


:.:..<,. <:: <; 


««*'/-< <5: 


■ ,s«te::; c:. • <: 


<«5r;«<£ 


:■')•«:.• <^"^\< 




f^-tr •c:-". <r 



<!^o <:^<:<^.<:I c c; 









re < <: C'c: 

c c c: cc " 

C.C <z^ cc 

c< c: c c 

cc <c:cc 

C c <I c C 

- - c:«"c 
c:c <:c<^ 
<: c <zs c 
C c «^ c c_ 

<::■<: <. ^ c 
" <i'C: dec, <I^ 

«cc: ^cc - 

<cr<r C2<r ^ 

— ^^i 

-^ % 



c c c 
<^c:c 



«cc:c <c 

<ic c <r . 

<Zc f <:. . 
<:-<:<( <r 

cc«L_ c :. 
c:c«£':c 
c:c«c:c 
dec c 

C'CS c < 

C'CG C < 

. c<-(-<f c; c 



<!<''' C. 

<:Oi:c: 
c£-"c:. 
<3 c: 



•cc <c c: c: 



c<r <r 



<<■ - 

<:<r 



<3C <rcc: 

CiC CiO 



" ■-ccT cd <:-^ 

=^^ .<SC_ CC dd ■ 

r: ■••r <^c cc 

> ~ c<g: r <r c c ;, 
f<S- cCCC 5 

C<IC .< C< CL s 

r<:^ -re CTC- c<L 

c ' C cCC-C 4 



C"«Sr-" 

c cc:_ 

. c: ^: 

C c^- 
C c^ 
C <^ 
c. <«^ 
c «S 



C CitC- 

^ cs?: 






ore 5: 

dec d 
OfC d 

<rcc <!C_. 



d<f <: 

d<r c: 

CZct d 

d«d 

<3>c:; 

d''>-c: ^ 
c <i 

c <c 

c c 
d d 



<5 


c; 


<£_ 


c: 


<1 


c: 


■d. 


d 


^ d 


d 


, , d: 


d 


d: 


<: 


<? 


d 




^ 


S- 


^ — 

d 


& 


<:: 


d<C 


d: 


d€r 


<r 


dC 


Cl_ 



^cC ^CCC-C, 
C d cc C C C. 
c c cccc c . 

C -C cf CcC' C- , 
C''C cc CC: c 

c <: ec CC-'! 1^ 
c ec '-:c<d;^' 

crecc "^5d;C 

[ccc: cc:(dI-<: 
i<or. <efC?^'c 

iCd a cdd 
dd -< cd'C 

d <■>' <d c < 

d acre < 

c: . 'C c < 

d' a/c^c: 5 

d ^^:*Cd. C 

d c.uc d , C 

^ ;::"^ ■ c 



«r: cc 

«- .c c 



-yd- d 

,cdC- 



d: ■ 



II 

c c: 



d c^<^ 

cz c c 

d c c 

d c c 

d - c c 

d cc 

«-_ c c 

I cc 

d^ c c 



d 



d cc 



cc 

cc 

cc 

cc d: 



